Respite and Shadow
by Whitefang1407
Summary: Lana and Caius embark on a much-needed vacation to a world from their past; adventure follows. Lana Beniko and (LS) Male SW pairing, post-KOTET.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello all! Well, I recently finished the SWTOR KOTET expansion, and to be honest, I was a bit disappointed in the lack of interaction with your companions (it was still pretty good, though). CWaW is set before this one and contains the same characters, but you don't necessarily need to read it first (forewarning: my SW is very LS for a Sith). That said, there will be spoilers for KOTET in this story. Please feel free to leave a comment/review, as I am always looking for ways to improve! I will do my best to be at least somewhat timely in updating chapters. All rights go to Bioware. Enjoy!**

* * *

Lana did not necessarily dislike parties, but under normal circumstances she was not inclined to attend them. The few she had gone to in her life consisted of either undercover operations during her time with Imperial Intelligence or the occasional cantina visit with Caius and, now and then, with Koth, Theron, and the rest of the crew. It was not that she had anything against social gatherings or alcohol (apart from the fact that it dulled her senses, and as a Sith Lord and a master intelligence gatherer, her senses _needed_ to be sharp, always), but rather that she simply did not feel as though she had the time or the luxury for leisure. There were ever more reports to file, more threats to address, more strategizing that needed to be done. She had given Theron some grief the last time he pulled a holopad out during a party, but in truth, she had been trying to push that nagging sense of _there are other things I should really be getting done right now_ out of her own mind. That is, until Caius had arrived, and the nagging had gone strangely silent.

All things considered, however, today was not a normal circumstance.

It had been two weeks since the final push for the Eternal Throne. The Alliance had mended most of the damage left over from Vaylin's assault on Odessen with surprising efficiency; new recruits from the Empire, Republic, and Zakuul alike had come to rally behind the newly-christened Eternal Alliance after Caius made his speech and relief efforts for the Core Worlds began showing progress. There were still repairs to be made, but Lana predicted that within another week they would be finished.

Indo Zal had insisted that they throw the "Grand Celebration" right after the Alliance's victory, but Caius refused, knowing that many worlds would need to recover and rebuild after the bombardments from the Eternal Fleet.

"Besides," he had said, seeing Indo's immediate disappointment over the holo, "the more time you have to plan, the more grand it will be. Am I correct?" Thus satisfied, Indo had agreed to postpone the celebration for at least two weeks.

Now, Lana was leaning against the bar in the Odessen cantina, watching with a mild sense of amusement as Indo completed his speech (over the holo, as the "main" festivities were held on Zakuul, although those on Odessen were holding a celebration of their own). With a graceful bow and a flip of his heavily-gelled hair, Indo's holo flickered off, and the room erupted into cheers for the Eternal Alliance. Lana allowed herself a small smile; beside her, Theron stood tall and pumped his fist in the air, and Koth let out a triumphant shout.

"Glad I convinced you to come join us?" Theron asked her after a moment, tipping his head closer so that he could be heard over the commotion.

"That depends. I have yet to see you make a fool of yourself on the dance floor." She raised an eyebrow and fixed him with a pointed look, beneath which Theron shifted and chuckled. Lana smiled.

"Right, well, I think I need a few more drinks in me before I venture out there again." He crossed his arms over his chest, watching as people began moving toward the dance floor; a live band had already started playing. The music was loud, but not overbearing, a thrumming mixture of rhythmic bass and scaled, simple melodies.

Koth waved the bartender over and ordered several drinks; Lana watched as the droid prepared them, shaking one vigorously until it turned from clear to gold to pink. "Here you go, Theron," Koth said, sliding the vibrant drink over while taking one that was the color of Korriban's sands for himself. Theron gripped the glass in one hand, regarding its contents with the expression of someone who had just bitten into spoiled fruit.

"Uh...Koth, what _is_ this?"

The other man took a long swig of his ale and let out a contented sigh. "You know, I'm not actually sure," he said, wiping the foam from his upper lip with one of his sleeves. His brown eyes scanned the crowd and came to rest briefly on a table in the far corner, at which Senya and Arcann were engaged in conversation. Arcann was turned so that only the right side of his face was visible from where the trio stood at the bar; his stern blue gaze was fixed on his mother, listening intently as she spoke to him. "But," Koth continued, shifting his attention back to Theron, "you sure seemed to like it last time we all had a break."

"I did? I don't remember that." Theron's disgruntled look deepened.

Koth chuckled, his eyes brimming with laughter. "I'm not surprised. By the time you threw that down, you were pretty far gone. Then again, I think I was, too...I do remember it that it was right around the time when Len and Tora passed out, though. And _that's_ saying something. Anyway," he paused to take another long drink, "Don't worry. We know it isn't toxic, because you didn't die the last time you had it."

"What an astute observation, Koth," Lana said, eliciting a snort of laughter from Theron. Koth wrinkled his brow in a dramatic scowl, but only briefly, as he saw that the edges of Lana's mouth were curled slightly upward in amusement.

"Uh huh." He chuckled, a sudden flicker of mischief passing over his face. "So, word on the street says you're a Darth, now." Koth slid the third drink over to her, a small glass containing a simple spiced wine. Lana swirled the liquid briefly with little intention of actually drinking it. She watched as Theron sniffed disdainfully at his beverage, clearly trying to decide whether or not he wanted to taste it.

"Oh? This is news to me. Do tell." Lana lifted the glass closer to her nose; it smelled of cinnamon and clove. Theron had, apparently, decided to try his drink, as he was just raising the glass to his lips. Koth cleared his throat and rested his ale on the counter with a _click_ that was lost in the thrum of the band's music.

"Yeah. What did Tora say it was…?" He tapped a finger to his chin as if in thought, then, "Darth Eyeliner?"

Theron choked on his drink, sputtering pink liquid everywhere, as he tried and failed to swallow both the alcohol and an untimely laugh all at once. Koth's composure dissolved as he, too, broke into a fit of laughter, all rushed inhales and deep, rumbling guffaws.

Lana narrowed her golden eyes, leveling them first at the men beside her and then out across the crowded room. "Very funny, you two." She said with icy calm. "I may need to have a talk with her, later." It didn't take long for her to spot the blue-haired mechanic in the fray; at the moment, Tora was near the middle of the dance floor, waving her arms wildly in some bizarre sort of dance while a slightly less bizarre-looking Len danced nearby.

"Theron," she said suddenly, deciding to leave Tora to enjoy the party for now. Lana turned to see that Theron and Koth were still laughing. " _Theron_." He straightened, attempting regain his composure as he wiped the remnants of the pink beverage from his jacket.

Lana suppressed a smile in spite of herself. _These two_.

"Yeah?"

"Where is Caius?"

"Hmm." He frowned, turning his eyes towards the throng of dancing patrons. "Good question." Theron was a good liar, both naturally and because his line of work demanded it, but Lana knew him well enough that, on most occasions, she was able to tell when he wasn't being straight with her.

This was one of those occasions.

"Theron." She turned so that she was facing him square on and crossed her arms, her voice sharpened by an edge of irritation.

"What?"

"He's on a mission, isn't he?"

Theron snorted in mock bemusement. "No..."

"Unbelievable."

Theron sighed, an honest, heavy thing that gave Lana pause. "Look," he said, "I didn't want him to have to go, either, but this _was_ important. There's been an uprising on Tatooine…."

Lana rested her glass on the counter and traced a finger along its rim, troubled. "It's alright, Theron. You needn't explain yourself." She sighed as well, then, letting her shoulders slump forward slightly as she massaged her forehead with three fingers. "I think we both understand the reality of how difficult it is to relax when there is so much to be done. Still," she added with a tight smile, "I think I'm more upset about the fact that he went without me than I am about him being absent at all."

Theron tipped his head to the side, eyebrows raised in subtle amusement, and reached to pluck at some spare threads on his sleeve. "If you have to suffer through this party, he should too?" He fingered a red thread, lifting it up so he could examine it more closely, as though it were the final piece to an unsolved puzzle. After a moment he let it float to the ground; his eyes flickered back to Lana.

"Something like that."

"Ah, well, I was going to recommend someone else for the operation, but you know how he is."

Lana's expression softened. "Indeed, I do. I assume he didn't even give you the chance."

Theron chuckled. "Nope."

Koth let out an indulgent belch as he finished the last of his ale, punctuating the end of Lana and Theron's discussion. He waved the bartender droid over again and ordered a second.

"Very nice, Koth," Lana said, and Koth raised his new glass in acknowledgement.

Theron moved to order himself a drink as well, having given up on what was left of the first. He leaned against the bar, fingers drumming along with the music, as he watched the droid pull a glass out from behind the counter. Lana eyed her untouched spiced wine; by now it had cooled, but she could still catch the faint scent of cinnamon and clove when she leaned closer.

The atmosphere in the bustling cantina was loud enough that after a few moments Lana felt, rather than heard, a familiar presence approach from behind her.

"Am I late?" Caius came to stand beside her and wrapped a steady arm around Lana's waist, gently closing the space between them.

Lana smiled, a true, honest smile, and allowed herself to relax as she breathed in his scent: pine and cold metal and windswept sands. "Fashionably so," she murmured. Caius' quiet chuckle rumbled softly through his chest, producing a pleasant hum where Lana's ear was now pressed against the fabric of his robe. "I trust your efforts on Tatooine were successful?"

"Mmm. Successful, indeed," he replied, letting out a quiet breath that briefly stirred the hair atop her head. She shifted and looked up to find him watching her, his dark eyes set starkly against the pale hue of his skin. His lips turned upward in a small smile. "Although I think it would have been a shorter trip if you had been there to lend your expertise."

"You should have asked me to come, then." Lana raised a blonde eyebrow at him. "Stubborn fool," she added, eliciting another chuckle from Caius, and she joined him this time. He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head before they stepped apart.

"Glad to see you could make it, Commander." The pair turned as Theron spoke, a glass of something that appeared more appetizing than his last beverage sitting on the bar beside him.

Koth, leaning away from the counter so that he could be seen from behind Theron's profile, raised a hand in greeting. "About time you got here," he said. "How did your op on Tatooine go?"

"Quite well. They shouldn't be giving us trouble from now on." Caius crossed his arms over his chest. He was no taller than Koth or Theron, but he struck an imposing figure nonetheless; he carried himself with the sort of well-measured balance that was often associated with Force users who preferred to dual wield lightsabers, as though even the smallest movements were precise and planned, each a powerful and purposeful exchange meant to turn the tide of battle.

"I'll bet." Koth took a draft of his ale and smirked. "So, you going to have a drink?"

"Don't let Koth order for you, if you are," Theron interjected, shooting the pilot a pointed look. Koth snorted.

"I would, but I'm afraid I have somewhere to be this evening." Caius ignored Koth's growl of protest, instead turning to Theron and giving him a slight nod.

 _What are they planning?_ Lana flicked her eyes between the two; clearly, Theron already knew of Caius' arrangements.

"You're leaving?" She asked the commander. He turned to her, a glow of mischief and some strange mixture of hope and anticipation lingering on his face, as if he were a child cupping a sparrow in his hands. The glow faded quickly, however, and was replaced with his usual steady, calm gaze.

"Yes. Care to join me?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

Lana looked to Theron, who was watching the two with an unreadable expression. "And where will we be going?"

"I'm afraid that's classified."

"Really." A side of Lana's mouth lifted in a lopsided smirk, her golden eyes sparkling.

Caius parted his lips and breathed a quiet chuckle. He took a step closer, arms still crossed over his chest. "As I recall," he mused, turning his gaze upward, "We had a discussion on Iokath about scheduling some personal time."

Lana's smirk turned to a frown as she remembered the occasion with a sense of guilt. She had, indeed, promised to schedule some time for the two of them to relax when they got back to Odessen. She and Caius—and the entire Alliance, really—needed a break. Lana had hoped that there would be more time to rest after defeating Vaylin and Valkorion, but the list of things to do had only seemed to increase.

 _I should have_ made _time_. "I'm sorry, Caius—"

"Lana." Caius leaned closer, uncrossing his arms, and there was a certain softness in his voice when he spoke. He brushed a finger under her chin to lift her head up. The movement was so fleeting that had Lana not felt it, she wouldn't have known it had happened. "Don't be. We've both been busy lately, so I thought I would take the liberty of scheduling us some time together." He pressed his lips into a thin, hopeful smile, dark eyes against her gold. "Theron will take care of things while we're away. Come with me, Lana."

She watched him, watching her, the upper portion of the scars on the right side of his face obscured by a shock of jet black hair. Lana mirrored his hopeful smile. "Gladly. I think we could both use the respite."

* * *

After just enough time for Lana to pack a few things (Caius had informed her that they would likely be gone for a few days), the pair made their way down through the military hangar and out across the bridge that led to Caius' ship. The _Fury_ sat silently in the grassy basin; its dark color scheme and the sharp, angular lines of its wings reminded Lana of a bat or a mynock.

She paused as they reached the end of the bridge. Caius continued on across the grass, perhaps lost in thought, as Lana gazed up at the ship. The prospect of simply boarding the _Fury_ and leaving for nothing else but to escape and rest seemed, suddenly, so easy that Lana wondered briefly if it was all some sort of dream.

 _Nothing is ever this easy, this simple_. _And yet_ ….She watched as Caius began walking up the ship's ramp, the rhythmic _thump_ of his boots echoing across the grassy basin. _And yet, here we are_.

"Coming, Miss Beniko?" Caius paused at the top of the ramp to look back at her, grinning. Lana hoisted the small bag she was carrying and returned his grin.

"Right behind you, Lord Wrath," she said, and then she crossed the distance between them without looking back.


	2. Chapter 2

The airlock door closed with a decisive _hiss_ behind Caius and Lana as they entered the _Fury_. Caius led the way around the corner and into the main compartment, where the holoterminal squatted silently in the center of the room. Their footsteps echoed eerily against the metal walls; Caius still hadn't gotten used to the emptiness since his crew had gone, and even though the ship was relatively small, he felt as though its corridors stretched endlessly in the silence.

"My Lord Wrath!" 2V-R8 came shuffling out of Caius' quarters, tugging the Commander from his thoughts. "I've just finished scrubbing the floors with industrial-strength cleaner. I do hope you will find it acceptable. And I must say, Master, you are looking exceptionally deadly today."

Caius nodded to the droid, hiding his surprise; he had almost forgotten that he had sent him ahead to prepare the _Fury_ for departure. "Very good. Thank you, 2V."

"Of course, Master. I am at your disposal. That is in the hope that you will not dispose of me by way of airlock after we depart. Master Beniko." 2V-R8 gave Lana a deep bow before moving toward the holoterminal, apparently catching the dull sheen of a spot he had missed. The two Sith Lords rounded the corner to the bridge.

"'Exceptionally deadly'?" Lana asked, smirking, as she rested her bag against the wall.

Caius snorted. "He does have a strange way of complimenting me. I don't think his previous master was quite as lenient as I am." He stood before the galaxy map, the blue glow of its stars casting a cool light on his skin.

Lana chuckled softly. "Perhaps I'll employ some of 2V's adjectives the next time I compliment you." She stepped closer, watching Caius' hands as he navigated through the galaxy map's interface. He zoomed in on the Outer Rim sector and selected a planet made up of swaths of green and blue. "Rishi?" Lana asked, and Caius caught the small smile playing on her lips.

 _I could see making a home here._

 _Really? New seat of the Empire, maybe._

"Rishi." Caius entered the coordinates and moved to the Captain's chair; he wondered if Lana was remembering, too. "Shall we?" He asked, turning his head to look over at her.

Lana came to stand beside him, her eyes aglow with golden light, and some of the weight on Caius' shoulders seemed to subside. It felt profoundly and yet simply _right_ to see her there, somehow, as though he had been looking forward to this moment for a lifetime. "Take us away, my love," Lana said, and the _Fury_ lifted from the ground and into the sky, toward the stars that waited beyond.

* * *

Raider's Cove had changed little in the six years since Caius, Lana, and Theron had first come together to face the Revanite threat. The wooden, dock-like walkways still groaned underfoot, and more than once Caius found himself skirting a hole where someone had evidently stepped through. Other areas were crudely patched or reinforced with old scraps of metal. The buildings themselves seemed to be extensions of the makeshift docks, rising out of the walkways like so many hastily-constructed tombstones.

"Ah, Raider's Cove," Lana drawled as Caius tugged his hood over his head, "lovely as ever. I assume you've booked us a five star room?" Her voice was graced with equal parts laughter and curiosity. Caius chuckled. He led the way around a group of clearly inebriated pirates and past several merchant booths, his robe flickering behind him like a dark flame.

"Only the best for you," he answered as they rounded a corner and made their way down a narrow alley, lit only by a smattering of neon signs.

"Mm-hmm." The steady rhythm of Lana's footsteps faltered slightly, and Caius assumed she was on the lookout for anyone brash enough to tail them. A moment later the _tap_ of her footfalls grew louder and he turned to see her striding alongside him, golden eyes flickering mischievously beneath her hood. "All clear. So, you aren't going to tell me where we're going yet?" They passed a pair of shady individuals who were whispering to each other, clearly in the middle of some sort of hand off. Caius raised an eyebrow.

"I need to make a quick stop at the Blaster's Path," he said. "It should only take a moment."

"Alright, then. I assume we're meeting someone?"

"Yes." They exited the alley and turned onto a wide stretch of docks arranged in rectangular patterns; various establishments lined the edges, and open areas of water stretched between them. The two Sith made their way through an area cluttered with tables and chairs, where pirates, gang members, and the occasional civilian were eating and drinking. The Blaster's Path was just around the next corner. It was, to Caius, quite rundown for a cantina (and that was saying something, as he had had the displeasure of visiting many cantinas on many different worlds). Upon hearing Lana's hesitant sigh when they reached the entrance, he assumed her thoughts were the same.

"You bring me to the nicest places," she said, and then she inclined her head with a smirk. "After you, my lord."

The level of noise in the main room was loud enough that Caius was certain his ears would be ringing for the rest of the day. The combustive mixture of cantina music, reveling pirates, and bar fights was almost deafening; he thought he heard a blaster fire off at some point, but he couldn't be sure. _And I heard the celebration on Odessen was rowdy_ , he thought with a derisive huff. Twice he looked back to make sure that Lana was behind him as they weaved through the crowd, each time finding a strange flicker of relief when he was met with her calm and determined (if slightly amused) gaze.

They made it across the room and down a narrow corridor after what seemed like an eternity, the scent of alcohol and grease and scorched metal subsiding, but only slightly. Another two corners and three steps down led them to a second, less-populated room, which was smaller and more than often used for various backroom deals as well as the occasional high stakes sabacc game. The noise level was somewhat more tolerable.

"Ah," Caius grunted, spotting his contact near the bar. "Excellent. Looks like we won't have to wait." He and Lana wound their way across the room; before they got there, the unmistakable roar of a Wookie came thundering above the commotion. "Good to see you too, Jakarro," Caius said as he came to a stop before the Wookie's looming figure. He caught Lana's smile as she came to stand beside him.

"Hey, what about me? Everybody forgets about me!" C2-D4 chimed in; it seemed he still had yet to repay his debt to Jakarro, as his head remained strapped to the Wookie's chest. Jakarro snarled in a show of exasperation.

"Yes, C2. You as well." Caius obliged.

"Lana Beniko!" The droid blundered on. "How have you been?" Lana clasped her hands behind her back, settling into her accustomed stance.

"Quite well, thank you. It's nice to see you both. I hear you've been busy?" At that, Jakarro released another triumphant roar.

"Oh, yes," C2's green eyes flickered in synchrony with his speech, "What he said. We've established quite a generous amount of income here on Rishi, what with all the pirate gangs we've swindled, and that was even before the runs we started doing against the Eternal Empire, you know, and—"

Jakarro's growl was signal enough to silence the droid, as the group knew quite well how long-winded C2 could be.

"Right, my apologies." C2 paused; Caius gave him a questioning look. "So, you must be eager to be on your way. Everything has been prepared for your arrival!" The droid sounded almost excited, if excitement was such a thing that could be emulated through a mechanical voice.

"Yes, we've been waiting some time for this," Caius said. "Do you have it, Jakarro?" The Wookie uttered a low, affirmative growl and removed what looked like a small data chip from the satchel at his side. Caius held it in the palm of his hand for a moment before slipping it into the folds of his robe. "Perfect. Thank you, my friends."

"It was no trouble at all," C2 said, "After all, snuggling items of interest is one of the things we do best! Just remember—one drop each should do it."

"Right. We'll keep in touch." Caius gave the two a brisk nod. Lana was watching the exchange silently, her golden eyes missing nothing, and she arced a blonde eyebrow at him as they turned to go.

"Do I want to know?" She asked. The edges of Caius' mouth turned upward, a small smile that tugged at the scar bisecting his lips.

"Most definitely."

Such was Caius' eagerness to reach their destination that he failed to notice the hooded figure slouched against a far corner of the dimly-lit room, watching the exchange with an acute sense of interest.

* * *

The _Fury_ was a pleasantly quiet ship, so much so that Lana almost felt as if it was _too_ quiet at times; she had grown accustomed to the constant grating of the _Gravestone_ 's engines. Caius had told her that the trip to their destination would be a short one.

"It's on the other side of the planet, actually, but it won't take long to fly there," he had said. Now, Lana was standing on the bridge, watching the waters and islands pass below them in a blur of color. Already, the heavily-polluted water near Raider's Cove had turned from a dusky green to a brilliant blue.

"Nearly there," Caius said. She turned to see him adjusting the controls from the Captain's chair. Their eyes met, gold against deep brown, and Caius smiled. Lana loved these moments, these small treasures during which he was not the Commander or the Empire's Wrath or anything other than _Caius_ , her Caius, fierce and gentle and strong all at once. She mirrored his smile.

"You've certainly gone to some lengths to keep me in the dark about whatever it is you've been planning," she said, raising a thoughtful eyebrow. "Who else knows about this?" Caius pulled back on the accelerator, and the ship began to slow.

"Yes...it hasn't been easy, considering how observant you are. You should be proud." He shot her a playful, self-satisfied smirk. "Of course, it helps that Theron keeps secrets as part of his job. He, Jakarro, and C2 are the only ones who know about it so far. Although the latter two have limited information."

"Mmm." Lana hummed thoughtfully at that, her lips set in a relaxed line, and she turned to look out the window once more.

"Ah, here we are." Caius decelerated the ship again, and they began a smooth descent. They had reached a relatively small island (Lana estimated about five miles wide by twenty miles long), set well apart from any surrounding land masses and covered in a dense array of trees. On three sides, it was lined with light sandy beaches; at the farthest edge, the island's elevation increased dramatically before cutting back down to the water in the form of a sheer, salt-stained cliff. The ship was touching down in a small clearing. Lana saw what seemed to be the beginnings of a thin trail leading through the trees, and she hoisted her bag over her shoulder as Caius rose from the Captain's chair, beckoning for her to follow.

"I didn't see any structures from the ship," she commented as they made their way down the ramp and onto the grass. "No buildings here?"

"Only one." Caius moved to the side of the ramp, where he accessed the control panel for the _Fury_ 's storage hatch. A moment later, the hatch opened with a _hiss_ ; Lana watched him disappear into the "belly" of the ship, as it were, and then reappear with his tauntaun in tow. "What?" Caius asked, seeing Lana's carefully raised eyebrow. "I couldn't leave her on Odessen. Tully's been with me for even longer than _you_ have. Isn't that right, old girl?" He scratched the furry beast under her chin, eliciting a snort of contentment. Lana chuckled and extended her hand.

"Yes, well, I suppose I can't blame you for hesitating to leave her in Koth's care," she said, and Tully released a great breath against her palm.

"Ha. Certainly not." Caius tucked a few items into the tauntaun's saddlebags and grunted. "And as cozy as her compartment is, I'm sure she needs some fresh air. Now…." he looked to the small trail Lana had spotted earlier. "Shall we? Let's walk. It's not far from here." The two set off at a comfortable pace, with Tully not far behind. Lana suppressed a laugh.

"I don't believe I've ever seen a tauntaun this loyal. She follows without a lead?"

"Yes. We've been through a lot together: Baras's betrayal, working with the Emperor's Hand, Makeb, Yavin 4, and the war with the Eternal Empire of course, once Theron found her for me." He ducked under a low-hanging branch and stepped lightly over a large rock.

"Right," Lana said, watching a small, lizard-like creature scuttle across her path, "I remember meeting her before the war. Were she a person, I think I would almost be jealous of all the time she's had with you." Caius released a breathy sound, something in between a sigh and a laugh.

"Really, now. I hope you two don't fight over me when I'm not looking." Lana smiled. The trail led upward and to the left; there was a break in the trees up ahead, and she could see both the expanse of ocean and a small building nestled in a grove of palms. Another few moments and Lana saw a fenced area—a paddock, perhaps, beside what was clearly a house.

"Caius, is this…?"

"Hold on, just a moment longer," he answered gently. Lana surveyed the the building as Caius led Tully into the paddock, carefully unsaddling her and leading her to a trough filled with water at the far side. "Excellent," Lana heard him say, "they already filled it for her." It was no surprise that she hadn't seen the house from the air; it was both small and well-concealed by the surrounding trees. It was styled simply, all angular lines and standard, dark metal, reminisce of the apartments on Dromund Kaas. From above it would look like nothing more than a shadow. Its front windows faced the water, which could be seen through the break in the trees. "Right, then." Caius shut the paddock gate with a smooth _click_ and came to stand beside Lana. "Ah," he hesitated, suddenly appearing nervous, "do you remember those extra funds we had after that ordeal with the Gilded Star?" Dappled sunlight fell like droplets through the trees, both illuminating and hiding his face. Lana traced the lines of his scars through the pattern; her golden eyes flickered thoughtfully.

"Yes. As I recall, you were going to keep those as a safety net for the Alliance."

"Right, but, well, now that the Alliance has...grown...well. The cause has more than enough credits." He looked back to the house, something akin to hope softening his features. "This is our safety net, Lana."

"You...bought us a house."

"Well, yes. Technically, the entire island is ours. I had the house built here. But yes."

"This is what you've been keeping from me?" She stared openly at the building, lips parted in surprise.

"Mmm."

"Well, then. It seems I've underestimated your affinity for delicate work, Lord Wrath." She turned to him with a playful smile. "I truly had no idea."

"Indeed. I _am_ more than a brute with a pair of lightsabers, you know."

"That you are, love." The two chuckled softly. "That you are." After a moment, Caius reached into his robes and removed the chip that Jakarro had given him.

"Before we go inside, there's one last order of business. This is a somewhat outdated bit of tech—a security measure."

"It looks like a biochip," Lana observed, seeing it up close for the first time. Caius nodded in affirmation.

"Yes. It requires a drop blood from each of us in order to register our biosignatures. This is, in essence, our house key. It will allow us inside and keep anyone else—apart from those we allow in—from entering." He unclasped one of his gauntlets to expose a finger and held it up to the chip. There was a distinct _click_ as the key's built-in system pricked Caius' skin, and after a moment the device emitted a soft chime. "Alright," Caius replaced his glove and handed Lana the biochip, "Your turn. I promise it only hurts a little." He raised his eyebrows in mock concern. Lana huffed a sigh of amusement, then removed her own glove and repeated the same process. She gave the biochip back to Caius after it registered her biosignature. "Ready?" he asked her.

"Most definitely."

Caius smiled, a soft, hopeful thing, and then he extended an arm to usher her forward. "After you, my lady."

After a brief, initial scan by the home's security system at its doors, the two Sith lords entered into a surprisingly large front room comprised of a kitchen and a den area. It was furnished simply: one standard sofa and an overstuffed armchair, both upholstered with dark cushions; a small holoterminal against the wall at the far side of the room; a sleek, stone-top island in the kitchen with a set of barstools. A few potted plants adorned the corners of the room—they looked like local Rishi flora. Various pictures and paintings adorned the walls, as well as an Alliance banner on the wall to their right. Some of the frames had yet to be filled; Lana wondered which memories they would choose to complete them. Several windows provided them with views of the water and the surrounding wildlife when the shutters weren't closed. Caius tapped a small display on the wall, and the area was graced with warm lighting. Lana stepped across the floor (again, a smooth, dark material, like what was used in Dromund Kaas, although the lighting gave it a much warmer feel). She ran her fingers along the cool stone of the kitchen's island. Caius came beside her after a moment, leaning close to press a kiss to her forehead. "What do you think?" he murmured. Lana reached for his hand and squeezed once, gently.

"I...it's...cozy. Simple, but elegant. I love it."

"Mmm. Come on, I'll show you the rest." He led her down a narrow hallway that branched off of the main room. Two steps down at the end of it had them standing in a large bedroom; it was furnished simply, much like the rest of the home. A comfortable-looking bed adorned with a burgundy comforter and an array of pillows sat beneath another Alliance banner. A small bedside table held a photograph, the contents of which she couldn't make out from that distance. Lana spotted the entrance to a master bath on their right. The most striking feature of the room—and perhaps the whole house—was a small fire pit at the center of the bedroom. When she looked closely, she saw the faint flicker of a tube-like shield around it, protecting the rest of the area from the risk of stray sparks. Smoke filtered up through the shield and out a small (also shielded) window on the ceiling. A few more overstuffed armchairs were facing the fire pit. Caius tapped a display on the wall, and the fire ignited instantly, emitting a comfortable glow. Its flames lapped softly within the shield.

"The shield allows heat and light through while blocking smoke and larger particles, like sparks. Everything is filtered up through the skylight, which contains a second shield. That one allows the larger particles through." Caius said quietly. "Theron's idea."

"I have to say, I'm thoroughly impressed." Lana smiled over at him. "You've outdone yourself, Caius. Thank you." He wrapped an arm around her waist, and she leaned into his chest with a contented sigh. "I'll have to remember to thank Theron as well, the next time we speak. I suppose I can forgive you both for keeping secrets from me, in this instance." Caius grunted in amusement.

"That would be appreciated," he said.

* * *

The moon had long since been up by the time Lana and Caius retired to the bedroom. Neither knew much at all about cooking, and they had few ingredients to work with in the first place, so they had settled for some prepackaged meals from the _Fury_ as they lounged by the fire. It was agreed that they would go back to Raider's Cove the next day for more supplies.

Now, Lana was nestled comfortably amongst the burgundy pillows, watching as Caius emerged from the bathroom in a pair of loose trousers. He shook his head vigorously, spraying droplets of water across the room, and Lana buried herself further to avoid the onslaught with a breathy laugh.

"My goodness, you're worse than Tully!" she choked through her laughter, and Caius chuckled.

"Don't insult her. She's old." He flashed her a smile before settling himself on the edge of the bed, the pale slope of his bare shoulders glinting in the dim light of the room. His back was laced with scars; long, jagged marks ran across his skin like sickly streams; his right side bore the blotched, knotted form of an old burn wound and, near the center of his back, just to the side of his spine, Lana recognized the circular scar that was undoubtedly from the time when Arcann had impaled him with his lightsaber.

 _I thought he was going to die then_ , Lana thought with a pang. It wasn't the first time—nor the last—that she had truly feared for Caius' life. It seemed she had spent too many a night sitting at his bedside, waiting for him to wake up from his latest brush with death. Not that she didn't understand, of course. It came with war—she knew that. She'd even spoken with Caius about it, briefly, about sacrifices and coming back safe and the wrath he would face if he ever died on her, ever disappeared like he did when Arcann froze him in carbonite. And yet….

"Caius?" Lana reached out, tentatively, and rested her hand over that circular scar, imagining she could take it away—the scar, and the suffering it represented—when she pulled away.

"Mmm?"

She wasn't sure what she wanted to say, exactly. Everything and nothing at once. Instead, she let her hand slide up his back and shift over to his shoulder. He responded by reaching for her fingers with his own. They sat like that in silence for a few moments, with the moonlight and the unsaid words spread like a tapestry between them, connected by the gentle clasp of their hands. Then Caius tugged his feet up into the bed and stretched out onto his side, facing her.

"It's strange," he said, "being here, just the two of us."

"I know."

"It seems we've finally caught our break."

"Yes." Lana scooted herself closer, reaching out on a whim to trace the scar across his cheekbones with her finger. "It's been so long in coming." She reached the end of that scar and moved to his other, following its course down to his chin. He brushed a kiss against her palm. "Caius," she closed the distance between them until their foreheads touched, "thank you. Truly." She sealed her gratitude with with a kiss, careful and honest, and Caius smiled as they pulled away.

"Mmm. I should impress you more often," he teased. Lana rolled her eyes; a moment later, Caius shifted onto his back, and she moved so that she could rest her head against his chest. _Pine and cold metal and windswept sands_. She listened to the steady _thump_ of his heartbeat for a while. It sounded strong, fierce, able to withstand anything. Yet, as she lay there counting each beat, she marveled at the thought that one precise stroke of a lightsaber could render it silent. Caius saved her from the grim path of her thoughts. "You know, I never did ask about what exactly is between you and Koth. He's quite protective of you." Lana propped her chin up on one hand so that she could see his face more clearly. There was no jealousy in his dark eyes, no fear—only curiosity.

"Ah, Koth," she said. "Yes. As I said, we teamed up to rescue you from Arcann's carbonite prison."

"Mm-hmm."

"We fought many battles together over the years. It became clear at some point that he was...well, especially protective of me. I had suspected his feelings for some time, but…." She hesitated, searching for the right words. Caius waited patiently, his eyes calm and thoughtful.

"But in the end, nothing happened; nothing was there. I think he knew that. My entire life was wrapped up in finding you. For the war, yes, but also for me. I don't think I could ever think of someone else as…." She met his eyes straight on, gold against deep brown, brilliant and sure. "It has always been you, Caius. Always." Caius reached to brush a stray lock of blonde hair from her face, letting his hand linger on her cheek.

"I love you, Lana," he said, and she felt, rather than heard, his heart rate increase. He pulled her close for another kiss. "And that's a relief to hear," he added with a smirk. "I was worried I would have to kill him when we got back to Odessen."

"Oh, hush," she said, and they shared a quiet laugh.

It was another seemingly long stretch of time later when Lana found herself still awake, watching the slow rise and fall of Caius' chest as he slept. _Long time in coming, indeed_ , she thought as she released a contented sigh. _I wish we could stay here forever_. Caius was sleeping on his side, facing her; he looked much younger when he slept. _But the time we have now will have to do_. She tugged the blankets tighter around her shoulders and inched closer to him. She realized then what it was she had meant to say earlier, when he had been sitting on the edge of the bed.

"I do love you, you know," she whispered. To her surprise, her answer came a few moments later, a quiet reply laden with a strange mixture of sleep and joy.

"I know." Smiling, Lana placed one more kiss on Caius' lips, and then she nestled close to him and allowed sleep and—dare she think it?— _optimism_ to carry her into the next day.


	3. Chapter 3

Caius tore himself from the nightmare with all the effort of a man coming up for air. Although the movement was too quick for him to properly realize its execution, he found himself sitting upright in bed, staring down at a sea of burgundy fabric. A bead of sweat trickled down the back of his neck. Almost as quickly, he felt a sudden change in the mattress as Lana shot upright beside him, golden eyes uncharacteristically wild.

"What's happened?" She breathed.

"It's alright—it was just a nightmare. I—" Caius stopped mid-sentence when he glanced over at her. A deep, sleep-laden laugh rumbled in his chest. Lana's hair was in disarray; that, combined with the wild concern in her eyes, reminded him of some sort of frantic mother bird. "You—" he struggled to form the words through his laughter. "You look—"

"What?" Realization seemed to dawn on her, and her eyes flashed with a playful gleam. "Oh, you don't look so great yourself, _Lord Wrath_. And anyway, you scared me half to death!" Caius saw her reach for a nearby pillow and wasted no time in scrambling out of bed, seeking cover in the bathroom. He wasn't fast enough, however; Lana's projectile struck the back of his head with vicious accuracy. Still laughing, Caius rubbed the back of his neck and slid the bathroom door shut behind him. He heard the graceful patter of footsteps as Lana made her way across the room. "Did you just run from a fight, Commander?" She drawled from the other side of the door. Chuckling, Caius turned the sink on and splashed some soap and water on his face.

"Ah, Miss Beniko. You're the only opponent I've ever truly feared. You have a deadly aim, by the way. Quite formidable. I'll remind the others to keep pillows out of your reach from now on."

"Mmm." Lana's amused hum drifted through the door. "Now, what were you going to say? I look…?" Caius took a moment to dry his face before he slid the door back. Lana was standing there in her simple gray night tunic, the gold of her eyes flickering like so many tiny fragments of the morning sun.

"Beautiful," he said with a lopsided smile. "You look beautiful." Lana's cheeks flushed with color before she swallowed and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well, ah, that will do, I suppose," she managed to stammer, although her confident tone was entirely unconvincing. They watched each other for a moment, then: "You had a nightmare?" Lana ventured. Caius shifted uneasily in the doorway.

"Yes." He regarded her carefully. "I have them quite often, though." She knew that, of course; Caius had spoken with her about them on a few occasions. Lana stepped back to let him pass; he went to the closet across the room and pulled on an outer robe.

"This one woke you."

"And you, apparently. I'm sorry about that." He stepped closer to her, the sweep of his black hair concealing part of his face. Lana's golden stare leveled on him, calm and discerning.

"It's quite alright. Will you tell me about it?"

"Mmm." Caius crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. "I don't remember it very well, actually. The only thing I can recall for sure is that there were shadows...darkness. Threatening to swallow everything whole."

"Shadows." Lana reached for his robe, picking at a stray thread that had, apparently, been bothering her for some time. "Do you think it was a vision of some sort? Like the one you had when Revan returned?"

"Doubtful," he answered. "That one was much more specific." He pressed his lips into a thin line; Lana's brow was furrowed, her eyes sharp with subtle concern. "Don't worry, Lana. I'm sure it was nothing."

"Perhaps."

"We can contact Theron and make sure things are alright over there, just to be safe," he offered, knowing that she would continue to worry otherwise. And, in truth, he hoped it would put his own mind at ease.

"Good idea."

* * *

"You're sure this stuff is edible?" Caius leaned closer to the merchant booth with a disdainful sniff. Lana picked up a knobbed, dusky-orange fruit—or, at least Caius assumed it was some sort of fruit—and examined it for a moment before setting it back down.

"Yes." Lana moved to the other side, her eyes flicking between the various bizarre-looking options. "Theron and I used to buy from here on occasion, back when we were in hiding." She tapped a finger to her lips in thought. "Ah! Here we are." She reached for a speckled egg that was easily three times the size of what Caius was used to. "These are especially good...when they're cooked properly, of course." Lana must have caught his skeptical look; she leaned close, a subtle smile turning the edges of her mouth upward, and said, "Don't worry. We only got food poisoning once."

"How reassuring."

It was easy for Caius to dismiss his nightmare then, with the sun and the bustle of footsteps and the perfect simplicity of being with Lana—shopping for fruit, of all things, in Raider's Cove—as though they had all the time in the galaxy. Theron had assured the two that things on Odessen were going well; no further uprisings had given them trouble since Caius and Lana's departure, and supply runs to other worlds had earned the Alliance more support. Both the Empire and the Republic seemed too preoccupied with rebuilding to show much interest in anything else. Still, the former SIS agent had promised to be on the lookout for any suspicious activity.

"Alright," Lana's voice tugged him from his thoughts after a time, "I think that should do." Caius peered at the collection of food items they had gathered, still doubtful.

"Well, at the very least, we can have 2V scrounge up more protein sludge packs for us. Last I checked, we had quite the surplus on the _Fury_." Lana gave an exaggerated roll of her eyes.

"I'm sure that between the two of us we can cook something edible."

"That's terribly optimistic," said Caius, hefting the bag of food with one hand and scrounging the pockets of his robe for credits with the other. "What have you done with the Lana I know so well?"

"What? Pragmatism and optimism coincide every now and then." She brushed a strand of blonde hair from her face with a smirk.

"Mm-hmm. Ah, here it is." He removed a credit chip from his pocket as they approached the merchant, and subsequently handed it over. The transaction was in the process of going through when Caius heard a bustle of commotion from several booths away. Someone was shouting. He lifted his head to see two men in the throes of a fist fight. _Well, not exactly a fight_ , he mused, as one man was thrown to the ground; the other towered above him and proceeded to beat him without hesitancy while his victim—a scrawny, sandy-haired man—struggled to protect his head. Caius looked to Lana, who was watching the display with a scowl of distaste. The merchant cleared his throat; Caius took back his credit chip and the bag of supplies with a curt nod. Lana met his eyes, and the question between them was clear: _Should we interfere_? It would be one thing if the victim was holding his own. However….

The other man pulled a blaster from his side and took aim. All questions dispelled, Lana and Caius took off at once; they were several yards away from the scene in moments. Caius tossed the bag of food down and stretched out his hand. The attacker's blaster came zipping through the air and into his open palm; a look of wide-eyed shock fell upon the man's face as he found himself pressing his finger against thin air where the trigger should have been.

"That's quite enough," Caius said, closing his fist. The weapon crumpled like a tin can and clattered against the wooden walkway, useless. The attacker—most likely a local gang member, judging by his grizzled look and the tattered brown trench coat he wore like a set of old rags—took only a moment to go from shocked to furious.

"Why, you…." He sized the two of them up, sickly green eyes bulging with rage. "Who do you think you are, butting into a man's business like that?" His victim moaned, pressing a shaking hand to the gushing wound on his forehead.

"Business?" Lana's voice was sharp and cold. "What sort of business has you beating an unarmed man?"

"The kind that pays good," the attacker snarled. "What, you guys the police around here or somethin'? This is Raider's Cove, not some namby-pamby core world!" Caius took a step forward, his jaw set in a hard, angry line.

"I don't like your tone," he said. "Now, what was the real reason you attacked him?" Out of the corner of his eye, Caius saw Lana reaching for the lightsaber at her hip. The attacker saw it, too. He swallowed heavily.

"I told you: money is everything around these parts. He has some beef with my boss—he's been causing trouble, asking questions around town. Doesn't care for the slaving business, apparently." He curled his lip as he looked at the man by his feet.

"Funny," Caius said, "I don't care for the slaving business, either."

"M-my son…." The victim croaked, struggling to sit up. "He took my son...slavers…."

"Shut up!" The attacker smacked him hard enough in the head that he fell back down to the ground, unconscious. There was an electric _hum_ as Lana ignited her lightsaber. "Go ahead, try it!" The man spat. "I'll—"

His statement was cut off as his throat suddenly closed and he was lifted into the air. Struggling, he clawed at his neck, his feet kicking wildly in the absence of solid ground.

"You don't have much logic, do you?" Lana asked him, her lightsaber held ready. Caius' arm was extended and tight, his hand closing slowly, slowly, as the man's air supply continued to dwindle.

"Tell us who your boss is," he said. The attacker sputtered and writhed, his face contorted into an expression of fear and rage.

"I—I—" he coughed. Caius released his choking grip, and the man collapsed on the dock, still grasping his neck. Lana stepped forward until she was close enough to hover her lightsaber over his head. Its red glow cast a deathly hue across the grungy fabric of his coat.

"Tell us. Now." Caius said again, his arms crossed over his chest.

"I—I don't know his real name, alright? Calls himself 'Umbra'...never seen him in person. He sends us creds, we keep the slaving business going. People...people who get in his way...we're paid extra to make them disappear. That's all I know. Please." he coughed again, hands pressed against the rough wooden dock. Lana looked to Caius; their eyes met for the briefest moment, and he knew that she would defer to his judgment for the time being. She deactivated her lightsaber and glared down at the slaver.

"Get out of our sight," she said. "And if you want to avoid an untimely death, I suggest you pursue a change in career. _Immediately_."

"Right—right. You got it." Gasping, the slaver scrambled away, clawing at the wood as he struggled to find his footing.

"Scum," Caius hissed as he watched the man disappear around a corner.

"We probably should have killed him." Lana returned her lightsaber to her side, frowning.

"Probably."

"Well, it's possible we scared him badly enough that he'll change his ways," she offered, and then she knelt down beside the unconscious victim. He was badly bruised; the gash on his forehead continued to bleed. "He's lost a decent amount of blood, but I can mend the worst of his wounds. One moment." Caius watched as Lana stretched out her hand above the head wound. A faint glow fell like a tether between her palm and the deep, bleeding gash; then, slowly, the laceration began to close, its edges knitting together like so many delicate strands of fabric. The glow intensified; Lana's eyes were shut tightly as she concentrated. Caius waited quietly, watching the healer and her patient, so close that she was within arm's reach. And yet, to him, it was as if she were a thousand miles away, unstoppable, untouchable. Lana was many things: fierce, intelligent, practical, kind. She was his friend, his advisor, his comrade, his love. She was relentless in battle, both gifted in the Force and skilled in combat. But it was when she healed that Caius sensed her connection to the Force most strongly. It was potently undeniable. He studied her posture, the tight set of her mouth, the furrowed brow, the tethered glow of Force energy surrounding her hand. Yes, here, she was unstoppable: the focused healer.

"There." Lana straightened, her eyes once again open, sharp, discerning. She looked to Caius. "He had a fracture at the back of his skull...naturally, bone takes longer to mend than flesh. Aside from a terrible headache, though, I think he'll be fine."

"Excellent."

The victim groaned as he regained consciousness, pressing his palm to the place where his wound had been. It took him a moment to realize that the laceration was no longer there. "Wh—you healed me?" He looked to Lana and Caius with wide, astonished eyes.

"Yes." Lana answered simply. "You'll want to take it easy for the next few days."

"Wait...you two... you're Sith, aren't you? Why did you help me?" His gaze drifted warily to the lightsabers they carried.

"We're not _all_ bloodthirsty monsters," Caius said, his voice so low it was almost a hum. "Unless you catch my lovely companion here in a foul mood, that is—in which case, I can make no promises." He was gratified with a severe eye-roll from the blonde Sith Lord beside him.

"Well, uh, in any case, thank you both for stepping in when you did." The man sat up with a grimace. "It's nice to know there's some decency left in the galaxy." Lana rose to her feet and clasped her hands behind her back.

"What can you tell us about Umbra?" she asked.

"Not much, I'm sorry to say. My son, Seph, was taken by his men just over two weeks ago. I've been doing some digging around town, you know, eavesdropping and asking some questions. All I've gotten is that Umbra has been running this slaving operation for at least a few months. Several others from around Raider's Cove have been taken. We don't really have law enforcement around here, you know, so unless these guys mess with another gang, no one is going to do anything about it."

"Any idea what he's doing with the slaves?" Caius crossed his arms over his chest.

"No. Sells them, probably." He stared down at his fingers. "All I know for sure is that I have to get Seph back. After his mother passed...well. He's all I have left." Lana frowned heavily, her brow drawn low in a troubled expression. Her eyes flicked to Caius', a stern reflection of her thoughts echoing within them: _be wise in how you choose to handle this_. Caius tilted his chin toward the sky. She was right, of course. She always was. And yet...there was something there, an echo of his past, of himself, that he could not ignore. He would have to explain it to her later. For now, he released a deep sigh through his teeth, then gazed back down at the beaten man.

"We'll help you," he said.

"Really? Just like that?"

"Yes," Lana affirmed, although Caius didn't miss the flicker of wariness in her tone. "We have contacts who may be able to help us dig up more information on Umbra's operation and whereabouts." She turned her sharp golden gaze down at him. "If you give us your name, we'll contact you as needed."

"Oh—right. Uh, my name's Verin. Verin Canthis." he ran his fingers through his sand-colored hair and sighed.

"Good to meet you," Caius said, foregoing Verin's expectations by refusing to offer their names in return. "Now...you should get off the streets and get some rest. We'll keep in touch."

And with that, Caius retrieved the bag of supplies from the dock (he was surprised to see that the eggs had survived his haphazard toss). Then he reached for Lana's hand and gave it a gentle squeeze—a subtle expression of gratitude, a promise of explanations to come—tossed his hood over his head, and struck off toward the _Fury_.

* * *

"Well, after that spectacle, I think your idea of a private hiatus has gone out the window." Theron's image flickered in the dim light of the living area, casting a blue glow against the wall. He crossed his arms and sighed.

"Is that concern I hear, Theron?" Caius raised an eyebrow at him, and Lana suppressed a chuckle. Theron snorted.

"I'm just saying that you could've attracted some unwanted attention."

"Our island is on the other side of the planet," Caius reasoned.

"Theron's right," Lana said after a moment. "Stepping in like that was a risk. And letting the slaver go was especially unwise." Caius wrinkled his forehead in a scowl—a somewhat boyish expression that Lana had grown strangely fond of. She smiled. "However, I think your 'blinding morality' has rubbed off on me as of late, Commander."

"Well then, it's sure to get us both killed, isn't it?"

"Undoubtedly."

"Uh...am I missing something?" Theron interjected. Then he shook his head. "Nevermind. Listen, give me at least a day to dig up what I can on Umbra. Until then, you two should stay out of trouble. Aren't you supposed to be vacationing? Long walks on the beach and all that?"

"Stop it. You're making Lana blush." Caius raised an eyebrow at her, and her cheeks warmed with color.

"Both of you, stop it," Lana said, clearing her throat. Theron threw his hands in the air.

"Ah, alright then, I guess I'll leave you guys to...whatever it is you Sith do on your spare time." Caius chuckled at that.

"Inflicting domination and tyranny across the galaxy, mostly. And Theron," he added, "thanks for your help on this. Be sure to take time for yourself now and then, yes?"

"Always do," the spy replied, and then the holo flickered off. It was quiet for a moment. Lana looked down at her hands and sighed.

"So," she said, "I believe you owe me an explanation." Her golden eyes shifted up to his dark ones, calm and patient. Caius pressed his lips into a thin line.

"That I do. How about a walk? We haven't had a chance to explore much of the island yet. We'll talk as we go."

"Perfect."

* * *

The island was, for the most part, pleasantly quiet. There was the distant echo of waves lapping against its shores; occasionally, a bird flitted through the trees above them, or some small animal darted across their path. The evening sun had abandoned its earlier shine for a calmer, deeper hue: oranges and deep golds adorned the sandy forest floor. Lana and Caius followed each other in intervals, each navigating for some time before stepping back and settling comfortably behind the other. Lana was currently following Caius. She watched the patterns of shade and sunlight fall across his shoulders as he moved—a bizarre, rippling cloak of nature. He turned his head slightly to the side so that she could see the profile of his face.

"Before the war with Arcann and the Eternal Empire, I had an apprentice," he said. Lana brushed her hand against the leaves of some sort of berry bush as they passed. Their texture was soft, velvety. She turned her eyes back to Caius.

"Yes. Jaesa Willsaam, wasn't it? I heard she has the ability to sense a person's true nature through the Force."

"Mm-hmm." Caius stepped over a protruding tree root. "Many believed that I showed her the power of the dark side in order to turn her from her Jedi Master...but that isn't true." He grunted as he vaulted over a fallen tree, then turned to make sure that Lana was close behind. She brushed a bit of dust from her robes as they continued. "When Jaesa used her power on me, she saw that I had been hiding my true nature from those around me."

"You mean your affinity for the light."

"Yes. Even Baras hadn't detected it." The path widened, and Caius slowed until he was able to walk beside Lana. She entwined her fingers with his and squeezed gently. He smiled, tilting his head up to watch a bird zip through the canopy of leaves above them. "Jaesa and I endeavored to change the Empire from within," he said. Lana nodded thoughtfully.

"You've mentioned this."

"Yes." He hesitated, apparently mulling over his next words. "I could have left the Empire, Lana. I could have given up on it, could have gone to the Jedi, even, to learn more about the light." It was a strange thought. If he had, would she have ever met him?

"But you didn't. You chose to believe in the Empire. It was…."

"It was my home." He turned to her, his dark eyes alight with something akin to mischief. "And the Jedi are far too soft, anyway. Some aspects of being a Sith will never leave me, I think." Lana chuckled.

"I wouldn't be so sure. You're quite soft already, Might Wrath." Her eyes sparkled with laughter. "So, I believe you were going to explain how this relates to what happened today." She squeezed his hand again, then stepped forward as the path narrowed once more.

"I think it's in my nature to believe that some things can change for the better, if we give them time and effort. The Empire, Arcann, slavers…."

"That's incredibly optimistic," Lana remarked as she stepped over a large stone. "You do realize that there's a possibility this whole thing is a setup? There's hardly an end to the people in the galaxy who have painted a target on your back, Caius." She heard him scuff his boot in the sand behind her, perhaps kicking a stick or a rock out of the way.

"I know." He grunted apologetically. "Which brings me to my next point…." Caius hesitated for a moment, then: "I've heard the name Umbra before." Lana spun around, her eyes sharp, searching.

"What? When? Did you tell Theron?"

"I didn't tell him. And he doesn't need to know—not really. I've never told anyone, actually." He crossed his arms over his chest. The evening sun was at his back now, glittering through the trees and framing him in an almost other-worldly light. His eyes flickered thoughtfully; Lana thought she caught a trace of...what was it, exactly? Regret? Pensiveness? She wasn't quite sure. "The last time I heard that name, I was a young child."

"How young?"

"Just old enough to remember." He pressed his lips together in a tight, thin line, considering. "I was born on Hoth. My parents were simple people: hard-working, kind. They bred and raised tauntauns, sold them from the small settlement we were a part of." He smiled sadly. Lana hummed in thoughtful amusement, imagining Caius as a young boy, bundled up in an obscene amount of layers as he tromped through the snow.

"I see your love of tauntauns started early, then," she said. Caius chuckled.

"Indeed, it did. Anyway, our settlement was raided. What little we had in defenses was easily destroyed." His smile faded, and a heavy frown replaced it; Lana studied his eyes, listening quietly to the deep hum of his voice as he continued. "Most of us were killed, our homes looted. I don't remember much detail...just...fire and shadow. I was away from the house when they arrived—I don't remember why. When I tried to make it back to my parents, I was stopped by a raider wielding a vibrosword."

"That's where your scars came from?" Lana asked, gesturing to the long, perpendicular lines across the bridge of his nose and down his right cheek.

"Yes. I fought to get past him, but…."

"Tenacious, even at a young age. So...how did you survive? And your parents? I'm assuming they…."

"They died in the attack, yes. I was, apparently, knocked unconscious at some point," he said. "I woke up on an unfamiliar ship, locked inside a cell."

"Slavers?" Lana asked darkly, picking at a leaf that had drifted onto her shoulder. A sickening sensation was growing in her chest; she held the leaf inside her palm, vibrant green against the black of her glove.

"Most likely. I was in and out of consciousness for some time." He watched her, his pale skin seeming even more lucent than normal. "My memory isn't the best evidence—I know that. But I also know that I heard the name 'Umbra' on multiple occasions when crewmates came and went." Lana frowned deeply, turning the leaf between her fingers.

"Do you remember hearing anything else? Anything that could give us a lead?"

"No. I—most everything else is spotty at best." His eyes were trained on the leaf now, too, watching as Lana let it drift to the forest floor. She looked up to his face again, seeing those scars in a new light. She had always thought they were from a lightsaber, some long-ago battle or a scuffle with a fellow trainee on Korriban, perhaps. Now, they were more than that. They were symbols. Reminders of a boy who had had his family ripped from him in one fell swoop.

"You...have been carrying this with you for all this time?"

"I suppose so."

"I'm sorry, Caius. That's a terrible thing to handle alone."

"Don't be." He reached and brushed his hand down her shoulder, lingering briefly on her arm before allowing it to fall back to his side. "I've been so wrapped up in my training, in fighting for the Empire and now for the Alliance, in facing each new threat as it arises, that most days I don't really have much time to think about it. And anyway," he raised one eyebrow with a lopsided smile, "I would much rather dwell in the present than in the past." Lana offered a quiet smile at that. "There is one good thing that came of it, I suppose...the person who rescued me was an Imperial. It was the first time I met a Sith Lord, actually." His dark eyes were warmed by the evening light, making them seem deeper, brighter. "I still don't know why he came, exactly—I don't even know his name. He must have sabotaged the ship's systems; it exploded not long after we pulled away. Maybe his master had a grudge against those raiders, or there was some larger plan in motion, or perhaps he was simply bored and enjoyed the thought of destruction. Still...he healed the worst of my wounds and had his medical droids patch me up aboard his ship. He stood at my bedside until he knew I would be alright. Of course, I began to heal too rapidly for a 'normal' boy; he recognized that I was Force-sensitive and had me sent off to begin the early stages of my training." He grunted thoughtfully. "It's strange, though, isn't it? The first Sith I met showed me unfailing kindness. Well...potential ulterior motives aside, at least."

"Mmm," Lana hummed, "it's not so strange, when you think about it. It sounds like just the thing you would do. And you do bring out the best in people, after all." She stepped closer, close enough that she could stretch out her hand and rest it against his cheek, concealing part of the scar that ran down his face. "My sweet Caius," she said, "Whatever would this galaxy be like without you?" He smiled softly against her touch.

"Well. It certainly wouldn't be as interesting," he said with a raise of one eyebrow. Lana chuckled and brushed her thumb against his cheekbone, then let it slide down to his chest.

"Thank you for telling me all this," she said. "And now that I know, I think we can both agree that we should pursue this with the utmost caution." Her lips turned upward in a smirk. "Let's avoid more brazen scenes in the middle of Raider's Cove. Deal?"

"Deal," Caius returned her smirk, and the two continued onward.

* * *

The remaining sunlight was all but gone by the time Lana and Caius decided to turn around. They cut through a stretch of trees until they hit the beach, favoring a seaside walk for their return trip.

"I think we've made good progress today," Caius remarked as he held out his elbow. Lana looped her arm through his, glad for the closeness the gesture provided, and released an agreeable hum.

"Yes. We'll have to make a hike up to that cliffside when we have more daylight," she said. A gentle breeze drifted across the water and stirred her blonde hair; she reached up to tuck a few strands behind her ear. They walked in amiable silence for some time, leaving a trail of bootprints through the sand.

"Lana?" Caius ventured after a while.

"Hmm?"

"I noticed that your healing technique seems...different somehow, after watching you today. I'm not quite sure what it was. The aura, maybe?" Lana tilted her chin up, searching for the first stars.

"Ah, yes. I've been practicing a different method over the last year or so. After everything you told me about what you learned in the wilderness from Master Satele and Darth Marr—well, I thought I might try my hand at a new technique." Caius grunted thoughtfully and pointed toward a telltale glimmer in the night sky.

"There," he said, and Lana nodded. "It seems to be working quite well for you," he continued. "I, ah, was actually going to ask...will you teach me?" Lana smiled at his sudden bashfulness, an endearing and rare trait that he only displayed in her presence. She looked over to see his dark eyes, so very close to hers, watching her with a careful, patient glow.

"Yes," she said, "I'll teach you." Caius smiled.

"I am most grateful."

Lana looked to their right, where the sand met a smattering of foliage and a few trees. "Here," she said, gently extracting her arm from Caius' and making a detour to the greenery, "why don't we start our first lesson now?" She plucked a leaf from one of the bushes and returned to Caius' side. He watched her hands as she tore it down the center, leaving only the furthest end attached. "As you know, all life forms contain midi-chlorians."

"Mm-hmm."

"Now, if I want to mend this leaf, I need to reach out through the Force to begin repairing it on a cellular level." Caius nodded thoughtfully.

"So, you're accessing the midi-chlorians to, what, accelerate its natural healing process?"

"Essentially, yes." She focused her attention on the leaf; a faint glow emanated from her palm, and the torn edge quickly knit itself back together. "However, that's only part of it." She blinked up at him. "The other part includes looking at the wound as a whole—I need to envision what the leaf should look like after I'm done." Caius scrunched his brow as she tore it again.

"Right. Cellular level and finished product." He frowned down at the leaf.

"It sounds much easier than it is, but I have every faith in you. Here, give it a try," Lana said, and she carefully placed it in his open hand. He closed his eyes; after a moment, the far edge of the tear began to mend, but it slowly fizzled out. Caius grunted in disappointment. "I find that it's helpful to draw upon memories containing either peace or emotion," Lana said. "In the past, I used to only draw from emotion...for example, when you were injured in combat, I thought of what would happen if you were gravely injured or if I failed to heal you. That fear allowed me to access my healing ability more efficiently." Caius' dark eyes flicked up to hers, searching the deep golden hues he found there.

"That's what you've changed," he said.

"Yes. Over the last year, I've been practicing drawing upon peaceful memories, pulling power from the calm rather than the storm, as it were. It's just as efficient—if not more so." She rested her hand over his for a moment. "Try again," she urged gently. Nodding, Caius closed his eyes once more. This time, a faint glow danced about his fingertips; slowly, slowly, the leaf began to mend, its jagged tear knitting together until only a faint line was left. Caius opened his eyes and released a breath. "Very good," Lana said.

"You're right—it's much more difficult than it appears. You make it look so easy."

"Well, I've had a lot of practice," she replied with a mischievous smile. "I've had to keep you alive all these years, you know." Caius chuckled heartily.

"That's quite true." He pulled her close and pressed a kiss to her forehead, then offered her his arm once again. "I'll practice more tomorrow." Lana took his arm gladly, and they continued along the beach.

"So, what did you picture?" she asked after a moment. Caius grunted.

"The look on your face when you woke up this morning." He couldn't keep himself from chuckling.

"Oh?" Lana raised an eyebrow sharply, her golden eyes glinting in the moonlight. "The frantic one, or the 'beautiful' one?" Caius smiled and tilted his head down to examine the sand as they walked.

"They are one and the same, my dear. One and the same." Lana huffed a sigh that managed to sound like something between _amused_ and _awkward_. Then they were quiet for another long stretch of time, with nothing but the stars and the lapping of the waves and the quiet _hush_ of an occasional breeze through the brush beside them. It wasn't until they turned and began making their way through the foliage leading up to their house that Lana spoke again.

"Caius," she said, "you know that you can tell me things, don't you? This past of yours...I'm grateful you shared it with me. I'm here—I will always be here—whatever you need." Caius stopped before they reached the house, and he turned to face her. She studied those scars across his face, studied those dark eyes, the way his black hair fell into his eyes and covered the right side of his face when he tilted his chin downward, the way he was watching her, watching him. He brushed his thumb under her chin, then reached with his other hand to gently cup her face as they stepped forward and into a kiss. After a moment, he paused with a quiet smile, remaining close enough that their foreheads touched.

"I know," he murmured. "Thank you, Lana." She gave a contented sigh and kissed him again, on the cheek this time, just over his scar. Then she took one of his hands.

"Well then, let's see if we can make something edible out of those ingredients we bought today, shall we?" she asked, and as the moon continued to climb, they stepped into the house—their house—and shut the rest of the world away.

* * *

 **A/N: Hello all. Thanks to everyone who has read/reviewed/followed/etc. so far! I apologize for the slow updates, and I appreciate your patience. Also, a fun fact: _u_ _mbra_ is the Latin word for _shadow_. **


	4. To Use, to Be

**Hi all! So...I'm sorry it's taken me forever to get this chapter posted. I was taking a (long) break to work on a few other stories. However, I will say that I have some new ideas for this story, so I hope you guys enjoy. Thank you for your patience:) Let me know what you think! As always, all rights go to Bioware.**

* * *

Caius woke from a dreamless sleep. It was an uncommon occurrence, one so rarely experienced that he welcomed the strange, cloudy feeling of having slept peacefully with a sigh of contentment and gratitude. He turned his head. Lana was sleeping soundly beside him, her face half-buried in blankets and her body curled into a ball on her side. Caius raised an amused eyebrow. The position didn't appear very comfortable, but he often woke to find her that way—knees drawn up to her chest, back pressed against his side, blonde hair uncharacteristically messy and strewn across the pillow. Carefully, he pulled himself into a sitting position, then slid his legs over the edge of the bed. He paused for a moment, listening, afraid that his movement would wake her. It had been quite some time since she'd gotten this much sleep—since either of them had, for that matter. He would hate to wake her.

After a moment, Caius slowly rose from the bed and tiptoed around the fire pit and across the room, where he paused in front of the closet. He had brought several robes with him from Odessen. One in particular—a simple, pitch-black outer cloak with silver accents—contained a hidden inner pocket. Caius tugged it on after donning an equally simple grey tunic and trousers. He pulled on his boots, fastened the clasps of his outer pieces of armor (these consisted of some relatively thin shoulder plates, wrist guards, and armored gauntlets, as his acrobatic style of fighting required the ability to move and stretch without impairment), and hooked his lightsabers to his belt. He paused in the doorway for a moment. Lana hadn't stirred. From there, he could just see the faint rise and fall of her chest, the gleam of her blonde hair in the grey light of the morning, the relaxed set of her brow as she slept. His lips turned upward in a small smile. Then he ruffled his hair and swept quietly out of the room and down the hallway.

It wasn't until Caius reached the den area that he stopped to check the contents of his cloak. He breathed a sigh of relief when he confirmed that the materials he had gathered were still there, hidden within that secret pocket: six delicate strips of metal and two thin silver chains. Exhaling, Caius grabbed a fistful of red berries from the fridge. Then, with his other hand, he picked up a holopad from the counter and typed in a note:

 **Lana,**

 **Out with Tully for a morning walk. Be back soon.**

 **C**

* * *

The morning sky was dimmed by a blanket of thick grey clouds, and although it hadn't started to rain yet, Caius assumed it would begin to pour before long. He rounded the corner of the house to see Tully peering at him from over the paddock fence. She released a lively grunt as he approached.

"Hey, old girl," Caius said. He reached up to scratch the top of her head between her horns—one of her favorite spots—and she dipped her head down, extending her neck in an effort to reach the other hand at his side. "Ah, is this what you want?" he opened his hand, and the tauntaun immediately began munching on the berries he held. Caius chuckled. "I thought so." Her warm, velvety muzzle pressed against his palm; she finished the snack in moments, then released a great breath of air against his chest, ruffling the fabric of his outer robe. He grunted and opened the paddock gate to enter. After ensuring that her water trough was full and surveying the amount of grass she had left (it turned out to be plenty, as she seemed to eat less in her old age), he rested a hand on her neck and stroked her side a few times. "You could use a bath, my friend," he said. Tully snorted loudly. "I thought not. How about a walk instead?" The tauntaun reached around and nipped at his hair, blowing hot air against his scalp. He laughed and shook his head. "Alright, you silly beast. Stay close."

* * *

Caius made his way along a game trail, listening to the _thump_ of Tully's footsteps behind him and the occasional rustle of leaves as she nibbled at berries and foliage along the path. He plucked a blossom from a tree to his right and held it up, examining the blend of scarlet and white in its petals. Then he closed his fist; the blossom crumpled and tore beneath his fingers. After a bit more walking, Caius paused at the edge of the trail and opened his hand. The flower lay like a crumbled tombstone at the center of his palm. He furrowed his brow. _Cellular level and finished product_. Carefully, he reached out with his senses, down and into the broken petals, where the blossom's cells lay like so many fractured compartments. Though it was faint, Caius detected the stream of telltale energy amongst the carnage: midi-chlorians. He took another breath. In his mind's eye, he pictured the blossom as it was before he crushed it: scarlet hues fading and blending into white, as though painted by some divine artist; six petals, each rounded and delicate; a center dusted with yellow pollen. When the picture was complete, he took hold of that thin stream of Force energy by tethering it to his own. Having bolstered the cells' natural healing process, he guided the reconstruction like a needle and thread, repairing damage on an exponential level.

The process came easier than it had the night before. While he was nowhere near as efficient as Lana, Caius was encouraged to see that the blossom was completely mended in a few moments. He stared at the flower in his open palm.

Using the Force to heal was a delicate process, one that seemed both familiar and foreign at once. In battle, the Force was his ally, his servant. It was a river through which he swam: if he channeled it correctly, he could use the sheer weight of its power to crush his enemies, all raw energy and devastating blows. At other times, he used its flow to guide him. It allowed him to sense the oncoming attacks of his foes, then acted as a source of balance and focus when he struck with both lightsabers. Yes, in battle, the Force was his might; it gave him strength, focus, precision. But in healing...the Force was suddenly an intricate thing, a delicate strand requiring guidance and care. If used incorrectly, Caius could easily fail to heal someone, perhaps even worsening the damage that had already been done.

His stream of thought was interrupted by Tully, who took it upon herself to reach over Caius' shoulder and gobble the flower out of his hand. She expelled a disappointed grunt when she apparently realized that it wasn't very tasty. Caius wiped his hand on his robe, raising an amused eyebrow at the disgruntled tauntaun.

"Well, it serves you right," he said. "Do you realize how much effort I just put into that?"

Tully snorted and turned her attention to a nearby berry bush, leaving Caius to chuckle and shake his head. He continued onward, stopping periodically to pluck a leaf, tear it, and mend it again. After a time he moved on to sticks and small branches (these proved to take longer to heal, as they were larger and their cellular makeup was slightly different from leaves, but the concept remained the same). Now and then Tully returned to the trail; she announced her presence by nipping at his cloak or ruffling his hair with a warm breath, and he, in turn, would reach back to scratch under her chin or between her horns.

* * *

When he had gone far enough that the smell of the sea became more distinct and the rush of the salty air swept over him, Caius lengthened his steps. He required a specific location—somewhere that would allow him to meditate more easily, as it were. The beach, he thought, might be a good start. The trees before him thinned until he was able to spot the grey swell of the waves beyond them. Caius stopped just before the ground fell away to sand; before him, nestled between two palms, squatted a smooth, relatively flat stone, about a foot in diameter. The grass around it was clear of shrubs and debris.

 _This will do_ , he thought, surveying the cohesion of sand and grass, sea and forest. Caius glanced behind him to see that Tully had paused a few feet back. Her head was ducked as she munched contentedly on an especially healthy-looking bush. _What was it I thought about her eating less in her old age?_ He mused. Grunting, he turned back to the scene before him. He approached the smooth stone and, as he knelt, Caius removed the strips of metal and the two chains from his robe. He set them upon the rock and examined them for a moment.

The six strands were comprised of three pairs. The first was a fiercely dark metal gathered on Yavin 4. It was so dark, in fact, that in average lighting it appeared to be onyx. It was only in direct sunlight that one could see the subtle purple hue the material contained, written through the metal like a stream of concealed energy.

He had found the second metal there, on Rishi. It was a warm, vibrant gold, not unlike the planet's sun when it wasn't concealed by the clouds.

The third and final metal came from Odessen. Like the chains he had procured, this one was silver. It was a fitting analogy of the planet it had come from: balanced, serene, and able to reflect the elements around it with sharp clarity.

It had taken Caius several months to gather those metals, as he had wanted to excavate them himself. Theron had been of great help in the matter. Lana was not easily distracted—especially when it came to Caius' whereabouts—and thus the former SIS agent had been instrumental in directing her toward "highly-classified, crucial missions that the Alliance could only entrust to her." Naturally, she was quite disgruntled upon finding that these "crucial" missions were often little more than simple diplomacy tasks, to which Theron would simply shrug and assure her that if she hadn't been there, things might have ended poorly. Luckily for the spy, her subsequent rebuttal was always cut off by Caius' timely return from his latest trip, each time carrying with him another sample of a metal he needed.

Caius was pulled back to the present as he blinked down at his task. This had to be done perfectly, delicately, lest he ruin the samples altogether. He drew a deep breath in and focused inward. Then, closing his eyes, he reached out with his senses and pictured the climax of his project.

 _Warmth, hope, anticipation. This has been a long time in coming, indeed_.

A word continued to echo in his consciousness as the metals were lifted gently into the air and separated into their corresponding trios. _Finally_ , his soul hummed like a whisper of the relief and joy to come. _Finally_.

Slowly, the two rings began to take shape, each of them an intricate braid of the three metals, the three worlds, and the two lives. He set Odessen—silver, balanced, strong—at their centers. Yavin 4's dark hue and the gleam of Rishi's sun were woven in with it like some minute tapestry, a tiny masterpiece. When the ends came together, Caius took another breath. He reached out and finished the rings by sealing them with the Force, melding the ends of the metal together and closing the bands.

Caius opened his eyes. There, before him, held in thin air with the sea behind them, floated the rings. He levitated them into his open hand and smiled faintly. They seemed to _hum_ in his palm; it was almost as though the process by which they were forged as well as the original energy from the planets they came from had given them their own Force auras. He looped a silver chain through each one and clasped the ends for the finishing touch. _I think they turned out quite well_ , he thought, blinking. _I hope Lana approves_.

Just then, Caius felt a familiar warm breath on his hood, and he quickly closed his fingers before Tully's curiosity got the better of her. "Don't you dare try and eat these," he growled, raising an eyebrow as the tauntaun settled for nibbling his hair instead. "And how is it that you're still hungry, anyway?" he grunted as he slipped the bands into the pocket of his robes. The tauntaun snorted and swept her thick tail through the air, bleating softly.

"Alright, then. Let's walk a bit further." The Sith brought himself to a standing position and, patting Tully's side affectionately, headed back into the woods, grabbing another collection of leaves and sticks to mend as he went.

* * *

One hour, twelve leaves, seven sticks, and five branches later, Caius stepped over a large stone and ducked beneath a particularly thick cluster of leaves, then rounded a bend. The trail widened; it looked as though there was a clearing ahead. He lengthened his steps until he reached the opening. His dark robes flickered in the grey morning light, a black flame, and he brushed aside another branch and looked up to see that the trail did, in fact, cut through a relatively large clearing; the grass on either side of the path was flattened in some areas, as though something had been nesting there. Caius knelt to examine the ground. The trail was muddled with tracks. It was difficult to discern how many pairs, exactly, but he estimated at least three beasts, judging by the flattened areas of grass. The prints themselves were large—about twice the size of his hands, with four long toes that came to distinct points.

 _Tonitrans_ , Caius thought as he recalled the large, raptor-like beasts that were native to Rishi. He straightened suddenly. How long had it been since he'd last seen Tully? Retracing his steps, he exited the clearing and gave a loud whistle. It was quiet for a moment, and then Caius heard the unmistakable sound of his tauntaun's bleating cry, accompanied by a chattering, reptilian snarl.

He plunged through the trees without hesitation, heading toward the sound. Tully cried out again; leaping over a fallen tree, Caius reached for his lightsabers and ignited them in unison. Their red glow bathed the forest around him in a foreboding scarlet, the steady _hum_ of their power echoing fiercely in his hands.

He burst through the trees and into a second clearing. At the far side, Tully was lying on the forest floor, struggling to scramble away from three tonitrans, one of which had its jaws clamped around her leg. The other two towered above her, clearly preparing to strike. Each stood nearly a foot taller than Caius; their backs were covered in thick, knobby scales, and their tails were muscular enough to knock a man off of his feet. Large, hook-like talons glinted in the grey light.

Tully spotted him from across the clearing and lifted her head with a weak grunt. While they still had their backs turned, Caius leapt from the ground and landed with a snarl in between the two standing tonitrans. With practiced ease, he twirled his sabers over his head and brought one down on the beast to his right while blocking an advance from the raptor on his left. His blow struck true; the tonitran to his right crumpled to the ground, its severed head rolling a few feet away before stopping in the grass, mouth still agape in a silent roar.

Turning his attention toward the remaining two beasts, Caius rolled to avoid a vicious bite from the standing tonitran; its teeth closed on thin air with a resounding _snap_. The third beast released Tully's leg and lunged. Scrambling to his feet, Caius narrowly missed another bite as it went for him. He responded by slamming his lightsabers together in front of him, gathering a burst of Force energy and sending it cascading in a thunderous blow toward the beast; shrieking, it lost its footing and skidded to the ground some feet away.

He leapt again, flipping over the other raptor in a controlled arc. As he did so, he cut his lightsabers down the tonitran's spine and through its tail, then heard it collapse with a _thump_ as he landed on the other side.

The final raptor was just getting back to its feet as he turned around. Roaring, it charged toward him. He sidestepped to dodge its attack; the beast turned and managed to catch his right shoulder, but the bite was shallow enough that it lost its hold, dragging its teeth through the fabric of his robe and into his armor and flesh before losing its grip. Caius snarled in pain and used his other arm to plunge his lightsaber into the side of the tonitran's head, driving it to the ground and killing it instantly.

Tully grunted weakly as Caius switched off his sabers and returned them to his belt. He crossed the distance between them in a few strides and knelt beside her, ignoring the sharp pain in his shoulder as he reached out to lay a hand on her neck. She shifted restlessly for a moment, her teeth bared in pain, until he closed his eyes and reached out to her through the Force.

"Easy," he murmured, projecting as much calm as he could. Caius stroked her neck gently and, as she began to relax, he looked over her wounds. Evidence of the tonitrans' attack lay scattered upon her body; bite marks, missing tufts of fur, and scratches marked her sides and back. Luckily, most of those were relatively minor; with time, they would heal on their own. The leg they had gotten ahold of, however….Caius' jaw tightened as he examined the jagged bite wound. Blood pulsated from a torn artery, staining the ground beneath his feet red, and he could see through muscle and sinew to the bones beneath. One of the two was clearly fractured. He shifted until he was seated more comfortably on his knees and tried to picture just how he would mend the leg. He hoped it would be enough—the pool of blood was growing steadily larger, its edges swallowing up more and more blades of grass as a storm cloud might swallow the sun.

Caius closed his eyes and rested both hands above the wound. In his mind's eye, he pictured the finished product, seeing and willing the ravaged tissues to mend. He took a breath and reached out through the Force, stretching his own energy until it met that of the midi-chlorians within Tully's bloodstream. There was so much damage to be undone—an array of tissues and vessels, similar and yet so different from the tightly structured, box-like cells of the tree branches and leaves he had been working with. Still, the concept was the same. He pressed further, deeper, struggling to bring everything together like some grand conductor of a soundless orchestra. A trickle of sweat ran down his forehead and dripped from his nose. He could still feel the blood flow beneath his fingertips, could smell the metallic tang in the air. He clenched his jaw.

It wasn't working.

 _Cellular level and finished product. Cellular level and finished product._ Caius felt his delicate influence over the midi-chlorians slipping; how could he guide so many at once, and so quickly? He leaned closer, struggling. _If only Lana were here_ , he thought. _She would be able to do this with ease_.

As if on cue, he sensed a familiar presence at his side. A pair of gentle hands rested atop his own, and a warm voice whispered in his ear.

"You're forgetting to breathe, love," Lana said. Caius opened his eyes to see hers, steady and bright, looking back at him. "Tully will be alright," she assured him, "but you need to _breathe_. It may seem like there are a lot of things happening at once—different tissues, different levels of damage—but remember that these cells already know how to heal. You're just lending them a hand—giving them energy they wouldn't normally have access to." She pressed her lips into a small smile. "You can do this, Caius. Try drawing from something—a memory, an image…."

Turning his focus back to the wound, Caius reached once more for the midi-chlorians in Tully's bloodstream. He took Lana's advice and conjured an image in his mind's eye as he began the process anew.

 _Layers upon layers to keep the cold's bite at bay. Tiny hands stuffed into homemade mittens; a velvety muzzle and a hot breath against his covered palm, searching for the promised gift of winter berries. Ahead, the reaching shadow of his father cast against Hoth's pristine white, beckoning—supper is ready._

The tissues slowly began to mend. The bleeding—though reluctant—started to subside, and Caius sensed Tully's frantic heart rate as it continued to calm.

 _His mother's hair, the color of ebony, tied in a loose knot against her back. His nose is pink from the chill, ears aflame, hands grasping for the warm bowl of soup as she hands it to him. She clicks her tongue—boots off first, young man. He kicks them away, watches his father do the same as he laughs._

 _His father's laugh...It's a sound he never wants to forget: joy and openness pulled from weather-worn cheeks, normally set tight and stern._

Caius released a breath through his teeth and opened his eyes. Below him, the last stretch of Tully's wound closed, leaving nothing behind save a pale, jagged mark across her thigh. Gentle pressure on his shoulder alerted him to Lana's touch, beneath which his own wound—long forgotten until now—mended swiftly together in a rush of quiet warmth.

A smile tugged at his lips. "Thank you," he said, and sealed his gratitude with a kiss to her forehead.

Lana hummed pleasantly and rose to her feet, the first drops of rain beginning to patter against the canopy of leaves above them. "We should get her back," she said.

Nodding, Caius rested a hand briefly on Tully's neck before urging the tauntaun to stand. The beast huffed a great breath into his chest as she did so; chuckling, he returned the gesture with an affectionate rub between her curved, knotted horns. "Come on then, old girl," he murmured, and the three struck off across the grass. Occasionally, Caius reached out with his senses to further empower the tauntaun, ensuring that she was well enough for the journey home.

After a time, he glanced over at Lana. "Enjoy your beauty rest?" he asked.

"I did, thank you." Lana grinned faintly, her golden eyes flickering against the grey swath of ever-increasing rainfall. "I can't remember the last time I've gotten this much sleep." She lightly booted a stone away from their path. "What about you?"

"Mmm." Caius tipped his head up and peered into the clouds for a moment. "After my five-year nap in carbonite, I'm afraid sleeping in doesn't appeal to me like it used to."

"Afraid it will be another five years?"

"Something like that." He raised an eyebrow. "Although if you joined me this time, I suppose it wouldn't be so bad. Perhaps my dreams would be...well, _dreams_ , instead of nightmares." He closed the distance between them, and Lana gladly looped her arm through his as they walked.

"Ah," she mused, chuckling, "little do your enemies know that romanticism is your true weakness."

Caius sighed in mock disappointment and tugged his hood up against the rain. He angled his head closer to hers, near enough that she could feel the warm whisper of his breath on her ear. "I rather thought it was a strength," he rumbled.

Lana hoped that the dim skies would be enough to mask her blush as she swallowed, nearly choking on her words in a rush to conceal the _whatever it was_ in her throat. Embarrassment, perhaps? "Don't tease," she chortled, and gave his arm an affectionate tug.

"There it is," Caius said.

So he _had_ seen it. Or sensed it, more likely.

"Oh?" She feigned ignorance.

Caius' dark eyes warmed as he released a chuckle. "Your blush," he said. "It's proof that my romanticism is a strength."

"Well," Lana hummed, stepping over a large rock, "I'm afraid that's only true when it comes to me, my dear. Your charms won't go far on our enemies."

"No? Perhaps we should test that theory."

Lana snorted. "Please don't."

"You're only hesitant because you're afraid it will work."

"Stop it."

* * *

"What was it we said about proceeding with caution?"

Caius released a snort as he crossed his arms over his chest. "We told Verin we would help him. Besides...don't you want to look into this 'Umbra', as well?"

Lana settled one of her scrutinizing gazes on him, trying (and failing) to make him squirm. It would seem that their close connection lessened its effectiveness, as Caius could easily sense her lack of true condescension. "I do," she agreed, allowing her countenance to soften. "However, I can't say that I think this is the best way to go about it. Surely there is a more tactful approach than going waltzing through the front door…."

"Technically, it's the _back_ door, Lana," Theron chimed in, the flickering, silver-blue glow of his hologram bathing the room around them in a sterile light. He gestured to the second hologram before them—a diagram of Umbra's base. It was a relatively simple structure: just one building placed at the center of an island less than half the size of Caius and Lana's oasis. Apparently, whoever built the facility assumed that its remote location and the choppy sea at its shores would be deterrent enough for potential intruders, as there were no walls surrounding the base. There appeared to be two entrances. The first—presumably the main entrance—was a high-level security door. Theron assured them that he would not be able to hack through without a direct connection. They could attempt to cut through it with their lightsabers, of course, but an easier and more practical option would be to enter through the back. The second entrance was a large hangar bay door; it would likely take them straight into the vehicle bay. Caius and Lana would be able to hack through the panel on that side—it was a simple interface, one that Theron had given the pair a crash course on in a matter of minutes during a bind on Zakuul. Using the back entrance would give them a chance to take the slavers by surprise and—hopefully—release any slaves held captive at the base, as well as gather any information they could find on Umbra.

Lana shifted, clasping her hands behind her back, and examined the diagram for a moment. "You're certain this is the best option, Theron?"

The agent furrowed his brow. "As far as I can tell. It would be nice to have more intel, but Jakarro and C2 could only gather so much from a few discreet passes in their ship. If you guys are sure I shouldn't make the trip over there…."

"No," Caius shook his head. "We need you on Odessen. Lana and I can handle things here," he said, glancing over at her. "Really, though. What are a couple of washed up slavers against the likes of us?"

"You and your optimism," she drawled.

He tipped his head to the side and smirked. "You know you love it."

"Alright guys, let's save that stuff for _after_ our important strategy meetings, yeah?"

"Sorry, Theron," Caius said, although his tone betrayed his lack of remorse. "So," he continued, "I think we should go today. It's still rather early, and the rain could work to our advantage."

"I agree," Lana said. "The sooner we deal with this, the better."

Theron's image flickered again as he bent over an unseen console before him. "Sounds good. Give me a call if you need anything—assuming comms aren't jammed on that island." He turned around to address someone, then shook his head. "Ugh, I've gotta go. Koth found another nest of those wingmaw things on the Gravestone. How they keep popping up is beyond me...do you guys have any idea where that industrial strength cleaner went?" At Lana and Caius' amused expressions, he shook his head. "Ah, never mind," he grunted. "Good luck, you two. May the Force be with you." The holo flickered off, leaving the pair in relative silence, save the patter of rain outside their home.

"Well," Caius mused, "sounds like we're missing out on all the fun."

"Clearly." Lana grinned as she tugged at the collar of her traveling cloak. "Do you still have that speeder bike in the _Fury_ 's cargo bay?"

"I do." Caius flipped his hood over his head as they prepared to head out. According to Theron's information, the slavers' island was close enough to a larger land mass that they would be able to land the _Fury_ , then take the bike across the water. They hoped to attract less attention that way. "With any luck, this weather won't create too much disturbance in the water," he continued. "It would be unfortunate if we capsized halfway to the island." Caius tipped his chin up. "Humorous, but unfortunate." He winked at her from beneath his hood as they rounded the corner and strode through the front door, out into the rain. "I hope you know how to swim."

"Oh, I hope _you_ know how to swim, love." Lana took his arm as they made their way along the path that led to the starship. "I'm not sure if you've ever learned, coming from Hoth and all." Her golden eyes blinked up at him. "Do they even have bodies of water on that ice heap?"

Caius snorted. "Of course they do. I mean, they're all frozen, but they exist."

" _Did_ you learn how to swim there, then?" She asked.

Caius brushed a low-hanging branch out of their way as they passed Tully's paddock. The tauntaun was resting peacefully in a makeshift shelter at the far side—he and Lana had hastily constructed it upon returning that morning. "I did—or, at least, I got my first taste of swimming. It took my father and I hours to melt the ice and pour it into an extra water trough."

"You can't be serious."

"I'm deadly serious," he grinned. "It was either that or have me tossed into one of our settlement's water purifiers. My mother would have killed us both for that one, though." He stepped over an outcropping of rock and paused for a moment before continuing: "Not that she was overly pleased about the water trough, of course. The sickness I caught after that stunt lasted nearly two weeks."

Lana chuckled at the mental image of a small, ebony-haired mess of a little Caius, floundering about in a tauntaun's water trough, of all things. "Was it worth it?" She asked.

He smiled at the memory. "Most definitely."

* * *

Lana wrapped her arms tightly around Caius' middle as they sped across the water. They were in luck: although the rain continued to pound around them, the air itself was relatively calm, and thus the waves amounted to little more than gentle, rain-speckled swells beneath the speeder's thrusters. They had found a clearing large enough for the _Fury_ on the island behind them; now, the pair was nearly halfway to the shores of the slaver's alleged base.

She squeezed a bit tighter as she gazed into the water. Lana knew how to swim, of course, and she trusted Caius' piloting, but there was something about the abyss of the waves that had always been somewhat... _unsettling_ for her. The sea was beautiful when viewed from solid ground: the rush of salty air, the dusting of white caps when a wave crested, the way the water reflected the morning sun or the night sky like some pristine, rippling mirror. And yet, when she was above it as she was just then, staring into the darkness, it became something else entirely: dim and foreboding and unknown, not unlike the Dark Side of the Force.

The sea, like the Dark Side, was a powerful thing. Powerful and fierce and mysterious. She imagined that if she fell in, it would crush her entirely. She would be pulled to the bottom as Light from the surface slowly faded to black. She snuggled into the slope of Caius' shoulders and closed her eyes. _Calm_. That's what she felt when she reached out with her senses, when she tapped lightly against his Force aura. _Calm and determined and, at his core, Light_. She chewed pensively on her lip as she allowed herself to become absorbed in his essence, his steadiness.

Lana had long taken pride in two things: her pragmatism, and her connection to the Force. She cared little for the petty squabbles over power which seemed to all but swallow most Sith Lords; titles and lofty chambers with imposing desks and high-backed, throne-like chairs were all well and good, but in the end they were just that: "well and good." Meaningless clichés belonging to another crusty, brooding Lord who would likely be overthrown in a matter of a few short years.

No, those things were not worth pursuing. It was the immaterial that mattered most to Lana: knowledge, understanding, discernment. She had learned that early on.

Her father had been a shrewd entrepreneur who praised money and status above family, willing to sacrifice time and affection for another rung on the ladder of Imperial prestige. Lana couldn't remember a time when he was home on Dromund Kaas for longer than a few weeks, as his work often required him to travel. He wasn't a cruel man. He was not angry or unreasonable or demanding. He was simply _elsewhere_ , even when he was in the same room, within arm's reach.

Her mother was an entirely different story. She had a certain gentleness about her, a softness in everything she did, ingrained so deeply that even the smallest, most habitual movements were careful and methodical. Lana used to watch her flit about their apartment; she often wondered how the woman managed to carry herself so weightlessly on a world as dark and heavy as Dromund Kaas. She used to mimic her mother's movements, hoping that perhaps by repetition she would be able to bottle that serenity like a last vestige of spring water to keep with her when she inevitably left Dromund Kaas—not that she necessarily dreaded the idea of leaving the dark, lightning-plagued world. Not when mystery and adventure awaited her. Still, her repetition must have worked in some way; more than once she had been described as "serene" and "calm", especially for a Lord of the Sith. A part of her would always attribute that to her mother's influence. One night in particular would always stand out to her, would help drive and direct her when life was at its darkest. It was the evening before she left for Korriban to begin her training at the Sith Academy.

* * *

 _She was lying in bed, her small body curled into a ball on her side, staring at the haloed form of her mother as she stroked her hair._

" _Little bird," her mother whispered her nickname into the darkness, "I want you to remember something." Lana blinked up at her, waiting, watching, as she always did. "I want you to remember that life is more than the darkness around you." She tucked a strand of Lana's blonde hair behind her ear. "You will be surrounded by people who will choose the darkness because it is easy. But that doesn't mean it's right." She sighed. "You have a keen mind, Lana," her mother said. "Search for what is right. Examine every angle. And when you find it—when you find the right way, you hold onto it. Do you understand?"_

 _Lana buried her head further in the blankets, peering at her from over the top of them like a sparrow tucked in its nest. "But how will I know when I find it?" she asked._

 _She couldn't see her mother's smile, but she felt it when she pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You just will." She was quiet for a moment, then: "You have a big day tomorrow, so you should get some sleep. No more reading, okay?"_

 _Lana begrudgingly handed her the holopad she'd been hiding under the blankets. Her mother took it with a soft, airy chuckle, placed another kiss on her daughter's forehead, then swept out of the room like a whispered breeze._

 _Lana remained awake for a time, mulling over her mother's words. She puzzled and hummed and frowned until her mind grew muddled with thought, until the word_ right _simply echoed drowsily in her consciousness, and sleep finally brought her the rest of the way through the night._

* * *

Lana would continue to ponder those words for many years after. For a time, she was sure she had found it, that "right way." She had learned to command the Force, to use it as an ally. She had been relatively successful in her pursuit of knowledge and understanding. She had avoided the death grip of greed and oppression that choked the life and decency out of most Lords, and that had been enough for her—something she could build a foundation upon, at least.

But then she had met Caius, and she saw the Light he carried like a precious flame, sheltered from the storm of Darkness that threatened to quench it at every turn. Oh, he was no Jedi, of course, but he was...how would she describe him? He was simply _good_ , at his core, where it mattered. He was indomitable and fierce and strangely kind. He was balanced, thoughtful, stoic and reasonable in the face of countless adversities. He was...centered. He was _right_. Right in a way she had never seen before, not in the Jedi, not in the Sith, not in the Zakuulans or the Revanites or the Voss.

This collision with Caius' being—or, rather, this _connection_ —required Lana to re-examine herself. Who was she, really? She utilized the Dark Side in most respects, had often thought it a strength so long as it was not given the run of the place. She had begun utilizing some Light Side techniques when she healed, and had been quite successful. But what did that make her—that balance, that smattering of different methodologies? To _use_ Light was not the same as to _be_ Light.

And that was just the thing: what did it mean to be Light? Did she know? Did Caius? Surely he had to, as he was a prime example. For him, it didn't appear to be a matter of technique or debate or doctrine. He simply saw the way, and he walked in it. He _was_.

So Lana wondered as she rode with Caius above the darkness, through the torrent and over the waves: was she Light, like him? Or was she the sea—at her core, Dark, an anchor that threatened to pull him down with her and into those foreboding depths?

* * *

It took several moments for Lana to realize that they had reached the shore, and that Caius had been saying her name, a quiet worry pulling his features into an expression of concern. "Lana? What's wrong?"

She released her vice grip in an apologetic rush, allowing them both to stand. "Nothing. I'm sorry." She adjusted her rain-soaked cloak in an effort to dispel the bore of his worried gaze.

He blinked at her once, slowly, clearly unfazed but willing to let the moment go in spite of the gnawing, unsettling _something_ that he sensed. Instead, he allowed Lana her deflection by saying, "Afraid of the water, hmm?" He forced a smirk.

"Don't insult me." Lana snorted weakly, then looked toward the building ahead of them, half-hidden by a sparse smattering of trees. "Shall we?"

"Let's." He blinked through the rain. "They haven't sent us a welcoming party, so perhaps they don't know we're here yet."

Lana followed after him as they began their ascent up the beach. "Looks like your optimism has won the day, so far."

"You shouldn't have doubted me," Caius quipped, keeping his voice at a low rumble as they drew nearer to the building. Lana hummed in amusement.

They crouched in a cluster of foliage as the extent of the base came into view. Before them was the large hangar door that Theron had pointed out on the holo. Lana spotted the console they needed to hack on the far side of the entrance; several large shipping containers were arranged outside the door, and she counted three guards ambling around the area. Judging by their shuffling gaits and slumped shoulders, it was likely that they didn't encounter many visitors. One of them leaned against the wall and pulled a pipe from his front pocket. He attempted to light it several times as he stood under the cover of the building's roof. Apparently, however, the rain had soaked through his pocket, and the pipe refused to light. The man snarled something vulgar and shoved it back into his jacket with a disgruntled scowl.

"Charming bunch," Lana murmured.

Caius glanced over at her, rain dripping from his shaggy, night-colored hair, as his hood had done little to protect him during their ride across the water. "Let's do this your way," he suggested. "Quick and quiet."

Lana nodded. The shipping containers would provide decent cover for their approach. "Alright," she agreed.

Caius unhooked his lightsabers from his belt and ducked his head, sweeping an arm out in a gesture of chivalry. "Ladies first," he said, a faint smirk passing over his features.

Lana rolled her eyes before gripping her own lightsaber and slipping out of the bushes, moving swiftly and silently for the cover of the nearest shipping container. She couldn't hear him, but she knew that Caius was right behind her. The Sith was grateful for her rather plain, ash-colored attire, as the grey melded easily with the dreary environment. She kept her hood pulled over her head as she reached her destination and pressed her back against the cold metal of the container—it had likely been used to ship slaves, as it could easily hold ten average-sized men. Lana turned to see that Caius had chosen a separate crate, allowing him to close in on a guard furthest from the entrance. He crept to the edge of his cover and glanced over at her, awaiting her move.

Lana reached out with her senses. There was a guard on just the other side of her container. She gave Caius a sharp nod, gathered herself, and swept around the corner like a gathering storm, igniting her saber as she did so. The guard didn't even have a chance to turn around; the red glow of her blade burst through his chest, and he crumpled to the ground. Across from her, Caius decapitated his foe with a swing of his two sabers. The remaining guard opened his mouth to shout. Whatever he was about to say was cut off, however, as Lana reached out with the Force to close his airway in one swift motion. The guard sputtered and spat as he was lifted into the air; Caius stepped forward and plunged one of his blades into the man's chest, killing him.

The pair moved quickly to the console beside the door. "Mind keeping a lookout?" Caius asked her as he began tapping through the display's interface. Lana nodded and held her lightsaber ready, scanning the area.

Rain fell around them as Caius fiddled with the console, grunting periodically as he reached blocks in the system.

After a time, Lana cast him a look over her shoulder. "Having trouble?"

Caius turned his head slightly and sighed. "I thought Theron said this was an easy hack," he muttered.

Lana gave an amused hum. "Here, let me have a try." They switched places, Caius with his back to the building and his lightsabers held aloft, sweeping the area with an astute gaze.

Lana tapped through the interface for a time. _What was it Theron said about this kind of work-around?_ Her face scrunched into a look of concentration as she struggled to remember.

Caius must have heard her sigh. He raised an eyebrow at her. "Can I shove my lightsaber through it now?"

"No, dear," she answered, attempting another trick that sounded vaguely like something Theron might have mentioned once. "I'm afraid that isn't a very effective method, anyway. It might shut us out completely."

Caius sighed. "It's worked in the past."

"Really."

"Yes. You wouldn't believe how many bases and other systems it worked on back when I was Baras's apprentice." He chuckled. "There is _some_ truth to the accusation that I'm a brute, you know."

Lana snorted. "I'll tell you what: if this doesn't work, we can break the thing to pieces. We can always cut a hole in the door if—" She stopped as the locks on the hangar door clicked, and it slowly began to open. Lana gave a Caius a look of mock pity. "Sorry, honey."

He snorted. "Damn. It's been too long since I've smashed my way into an evil lair." Smirking, Lana ignited her lightsaber again, and together they entered the hangar.

* * *

The pair found with some surprise that the bay was empty of guards. A few speeders were kept inside; the faint scent of oil and scorched metal led Caius to believe that they had been ridden within the last six hours or so. Across the room, there was a door that led to an elevator shaft. Caius and Lana approached the lift and examined the access panel.

"Looks like there are three floors," Lana murmured. "This one, of course...and there's a cell block below us. The lowest level is an administration floor of some sort."

Caius glanced over his shoulder to ensure that they weren't being followed. "Alright," he said. "I say we hit the cell block first, see what the situation is. We can continue down to administration after that...it's likely they'll have some kind of master release for the cells down there."

"And, with any luck, some information on Umbra," Lana agreed. They stepped onto the lift, but before Caius could tap the "down" button, she lightly gripped his arm. His dark eyes flicked to hers. "This could be a trap, you know," she said softly.

He pressed his lips together in a thin line. "I know," he answered, just as softly. "Think we should split up?"

Lana allowed her hand to fall back to her side. She ran a finger along her chin as she frowned, considering their options. "It might be wise," she said after a moment. "I can go straight to the lower floor while you clear the cell blocks. There can't be that many guards here...it's really not a very large facility."

Caius nodded. "I agree," he said. "We'll hit them on both fronts, and we might avoid a lockdown in doing so." He gave her a questioning look, his head tipped slightly to the side, as she regarded him with a strangely pensive expression. There was something lingering behind those golden eyes, something that hadn't completely faded since their trek across the waves. It worried him. "You sure you're alright?" Caius asked her.

Lana tugged her mouth into a hesitant, lopsided attempt at a smile. "It's nothing serious," she answered. "We'll talk about it when we're done here. I promise."

"If you're sure…."

"Do you trust me?"

Caius met her eyes, his dark gaze certain and gentle. "Always," he answered, and then he reached out to give her hand a brief squeeze before activating the lift that would take them to the next floor.

* * *

He left her on the elevator with a promise to keep their private comm channel on. The lift descended toward the lowest floor, and Lana disappeared from view as she descended along with it.

Caius paused before the shaft's closed door and pressed a finger to his earpiece. "Comm check," he said, keeping his voice low.

Lana's reply crackled softly over the frequency. " _I read you_."

"Good. Keep me updated," he whispered, readying his lightsabers. They ignited with a scraping hum; the walls around him were bathed in a familiar shade of red as he approached the door's panel and halted, awaiting Lana's signal from downstairs.

Caius closed his eyes for a moment, wondering what it was that had been bothering her. He could sense the faint, almost imperceptible _hum_ of the rings in his pocket. _Does she know_? He wondered, his brow pulling low in concern. _No, I don't think that's it. She would've said something. And…._ His frown deepened. Caius was so certain about this—more certain than he had ever been about anything in his life, really. They had discussed it once or twice; never in much detail, as they had been up to their necks in war and politics at the time. But he knew, he saw—he _sensed_ —in those moments a certain wistfulness, a half-concealed hope that lingered within Lana. He saw it and he recognized it instantly, for it was a clear reflection of what he had been clasping within his own chest, close and restricted, like a bird within a gilded cage.

Lana's voice lifted him from the current of his thoughts and back onto dry land. " _Alright, I'm at the door_ ," she said from the room that was presumably directly below him. " _Shall we?_ "

"Let's." With that, Caius tapped the interface before him, and the door to the cell block opened with a _hiss_.

The room, true to the building's outward appearance, was not very large. Eight Force cages—four on each side—lined the walls, each one emitting an eerie yellow glow. Six of them contained a single prisoner fitted with a slave collar. The furthest side of the cell block held a simple desk and a console with a large screen.

"Oy!" A male voice with a thick accent sounded from across the room. Four guards stood watching Caius, blaster rifles aimed and ready. "Looks like we've got ourselves an intruder, boys," the speaker—a man with a tattered old pirate hat and a mechanical hand—curled his lip at the Sith Lord across from him.

Caius twirled his lightsabers, reveling in the weighty balance they produced in his hands. "Let's make a deal, gentlemen," he said. "You tell me everything you know about Umbra, and I'll consider letting you live."

The man with the tattered hat snorted loudly, scuffing his boot against the metal floor. "Your fancy red swords don't scare me none," he growled. "How's about we just kill you instead? What do you say, boys?" His companions smiled hungrily.

Caius sighed. "Have it your way," he muttered, and then he leapt from the ground in an explosion of pure, unfettered Force energy.

* * *

Lana ducked behind a stack of metal crates as a slew of blaster fire pelted the wall behind her. _Well, we're off to a great start_ , she thought, tightening her grip on her lightsaber as she prepared for another attack.

She could hear more fighting over the comm as Caius wreaked havoc upstairs. " _How's it going down there?_ " his voice echoed in her ear, accompanied by the unmistakable clash of his lightsabers.

"Oh, about as well as you'd expect," Lana replied. She rolled out of cover and came to a stand, immediately raising her blade to deflect the oncoming hail of lasers.

Caius grunted, his breath coming in short hitches as he fought. " _So, not well, then_ ," he quipped. " _Do you need me to come down and rescue you?_ "

Lana snorted. "Don't be ridiculous." She focused her energy on deflecting the shots, allowing the Force to guide her and keep her centered. Two of the six men fell as their own lasers came hurling back at them. The other four spread out, taking cover behind desks and crates across the room. Lana took advantage of the pause in blaster fire to press forward, leaping over a holoterminal and bringing her lightsaber down on one of the slavers' crates. The man stood and raised his weapon, but she slashed again, taking off his arm below the elbow. His pained bellow was cut short when Lana stabbed him through the chest.

Two of the remaining three slavers cast down their blasters and took up vibroswords instead, while the third gave them covering fire from behind a desk. Lana eliminated him, however, when she cast lightning in his direction. His body crumpled beneath the force of the electric onslaught. Free to face the other two at close quarters, Lana deflected the first man's blow with ease, causing him to stumble backward. The second slaver swung his blade high; she rolled out of the way, then came back up just as swiftly. His back was toward her; she decapitated him in one smooth stroke.

His footing restored, the final slaver charged at Lana with an echoing yell. Their blades clashed; the vibrosword's electric energy field was just strong enough to keep it from being sliced in half by Lana's lightsaber. She slid her weapon up and kicked hard. The slaver's feet were swept out from underneath him, and he landed on his back in a rush of lost air.

Lana kicked his weapon away and pressed her boot against his chest, her lightsaber hovering precariously close to the vessels in his neck. "Tell me how to release the slaves upstairs," she demanded.

"It's—" The man swallowed, his pale eyes wide and frantic. He looked young—no older than twenty. "The release is on the console behind us. You have to deactivate the failsafe upstairs before you hit it, though—"

"Or?"

"Or...or the whole place will blow."

Lana cleared her throat and glanced at the console. "Caius, did you get that?" She asked.

" _I heard,_ " he confirmed, his voice coming in much easier than before. He must have finished off his opponents, as well. " _I'm deactivating it now_."

Lana nodded, although he couldn't see her, and she glanced back down at the slaver. "What do you know about Umbra?" When he hesitated, she leaned closer, her blade burning a shallow rift in the skin just above his collar bone.

"Ah! Okay, okay!" he shouted. "I don't...I really don't know much. He never showed his face, never came here in person."

"How unfortunate," she growled, her voice dangerously low.

The man was shaking from fear. "Wait! Wait, ah, there might be some information on that console, too. Some logs, some recorded conversations. I swear, that's all I know. That's all." He stared up at her. "Please don't kill me, miss. Please. I'll get out of this business, I'll find honest work, please…."

She stared at him for a moment, her golden gaze sharp and unrelenting. Caius would spare him. She knew that. But this man was a liability; he would likely say anything to save his skin now, seeing how easily she had dispatched the rest of his group. She had to make the rational decision, the _pragmatic_ decision, because that's what she always did. Because it was right.

Wasn't it?

Lana raised her lightsaber as she prepared to strike, but she found herself hesitating. Memories rang through her mind, echoed within her chest.

 _I think it's in my nature to believe that some things can change for the better, if we give them time and effort. The Empire, Arcann, slavers…._

 _You will be surrounded by people who will choose the darkness because it is easy. But that doesn't mean it's right_.

She froze, a trickle of sweat running down her brow, every instinct she had screaming at her to end it, to stick with what she had always done because it was safe and practical and known.

Caius' voice flickered over the comm: " _Lana_?" His tone was hesitant.

 _And that was just the thing: what did it mean to be Light?_

"Damn it," she hissed as she finally lowered her lightsaber. She glared down at the man. "Get out of here," she said. "Go. Before I change my mind." Gasping, the man scrambled away from her and sprinted headlong for the elevator shaft without a backward glance.

Lana remained for a moment, standing rigid, and then she switched off her lightsaber with a heavy sigh.

 _And when you find it—when you find the right way, you hold onto it. Do you understand?_

"I'm trying," she breathed, before she could stop herself.

* * *

Caius stood with his arms crossed over his chest, watching as the last two captives climbed aboard a speeder bike and started the engine. The younger one—Seph, he believed his name was (it turned out that Verin had, apparently, told the truth)—gave him a grateful smile before looking ahead and speeding out of the hangar.

He and Lana had ensured that each vehicle had the coordinates to the nearest settlement programmed into their systems; the riders would be able to make it there in less than two hours, assuming they stayed on course.

"So, what was it you were trying to do?" Caius turned to Lana, who was standing beside him, close enough that their arms brushed when she shifted to look up at him.

"Oh, I was...trying to find the right way," she said simply. "I'll explain on the way home."

"Home," his dark eyes warmed as he echoed her, savoring the gravity of that one word. "It's nice to be able to say that."

Lana nodded. She leaned into his shoulder, smiling faintly. "I still can't believe we accomplished this so easily," she admitted. "I blame it on your optimism."

Caius hummed pleasantly and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "You should try it sometime, you know."

"Perhaps you're right."

He chuckled. "Ready to head back?"

It was then that the alarm went off, just before she could answer. The hangar door slammed closed with decisive force; red, blaring lights above them flashed in the sudden darkness, and the two Sith sighed in unison.

Caius groaned. "Looks like we spoke too soon," he muttered.

They ran to the hangar door, hoping to cut their way out. Caius ignited his blade and plunged it through, but the door—now sealed with an extra lockdown layer—was so thick that even a lightsaber would take a painfully long amount of time to provide them with an exit.

"Come on," Lana took off toward the elevator. "We need to get back to the administration floor...we should be able to release the lockdown from there. We don't know how much time we have before this whole place blows."

Caius sprinted after her. They made it to the elevator and tapped the interface; the lift grated downward, painstakingly slow.

"Shit," Caius spat. "I don't understand—I thought we deactivated the consoles in the right sequence."

"Me, too." Lana scowled, pacing back and forth on the elevator's floor as they moved. "Well, it was obviously on a timer. It's possible we were given the wrong information, or we may have tripped it some other way…." She sighed. "In any case, what matters now is that we shut it down before—"

The first rumble of an explosion below them cut her off. She looked to Caius, opened her mouth to say something, but another explosion shook the lift so fiercely that the platform was knocked loose. Lana felt the lift fall away, taking Caius with it, and then the world around her crumbled as stone and metal and darkness buried them both.

* * *

 **So, a note about Lana: I've decided to explore her character a bit more in this chapter (and the chapters to come). That said, I'm especially interested in how her relationship with Caius—a VERY Light side character, as far as Sith go—might affect her views on the Force and her perception of herself / what she believes is right. She is an exceptionally loyal character, I think, and her desire for knowledge and understanding allows her a certain flexibility when it comes to the "Sith way" and/or what she has experienced before and during the war against the Eternal Empire. I realize this might require me to deviate a little from how she is portrayed in the game (although I am learning as I go, so who knows where we might end up). Anyway, I suppose I'm just asking that you would bear with me as I explore her character (and Caius' character, but I think I have more leeway when it comes to him). Above all, I want to make sure that I am portraying them in a realistic way, and I want to do them justice. Thanks again for reading :)**


	5. A Rose Between Pages

**Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read/favorite/follow/review so far! A forewarning: this chapter has a LOT of sap / fluff (am I ashamed? A little), as well as a lot of dialogue (sorry. I hope it's not too boring / sappy). All rights go to Bioware.**

* * *

Lana opened her eyes to dust and darkness. There was something heavy and unyielding—likely a slab of metal or concrete, although she couldn't see—pinning her right arm down. Judging by the sharp pain she experienced upon attempting to move, Lana guessed that her shoulder was dislocated. She was surrounded by debris; stone and metal and remnants of the lift seemed to press in on all sides.

 _Caius_.

Her first instinct was to call out his name, but a cough tore from her lungs as she breathed in the thick, debris-plagued air, and it took her several moments to recover. Trembling, Lana closed her eyes again and focused her energy toward searching for him, seeking out the thread of telltale Light and determination and steadiness that was unmistakably his.

She tried not to think about what would come if she found only emptiness and ash; if, beneath all of that stone and dust and metal, his Light had been extinguished. The darkness that would follow would surely be as absolute as it was suffocating.

 _There._ Lana bit her lip as she recognized his aura—faint and colored with pain, but present—coming from somewhere below her, and she released the breath that she had been unconsciously holding.

Now, she just had to reach him.

Her eyes were beginning to adjust to the light (or lack thereof). Blinking several times, Lana assessed her position. It looked as though she would be able to release her right arm without sending the rest of the debris cascading down on top of her. Grimacing, she raised her free hand and exhaled, using the Force to lift the concrete—just slightly, for she needed only a sliver of room to release her trapped limb. When she had enough space, Lana rolled to the side, yanking her arm free at the cost of a pain sharp enough to blind her momentarily. A hiss escaped her lips as the darkness was painted red; fire shot down her arm and up into her neck, sharp and unrelenting.

Lana clenched her jaw and rolled slowly onto her back. It was another several seconds before the pain ebbed enough for her to move again; when she did, she saw that her shoulder was spotted with blood. It would appear that the bones within had been broken beyond the simple fix of a dislocation. She crossed her left arm over her chest and hovered it above her crushed shoulder, both sensing the extent of the damage and imagining the process required to heal it. Then she took a breath—carefully, so as to avoid another coughing fit—and closed her eyes.

 _Her arm looped through his: strong and steady and natural to lean on when all the galaxy is thrown off its axis. Dark eyes sure and gentle and stubborn when he refuses to leave her behind. The taste of frustration and laughter on her lips: "You're impossible." His responding smirk, the hum of his lightsabers, and the set of his jaw as they turn to face Vaylin together, as one._

Lana exhaled and lifted her arm, tentative, as she explored her work.

No pain.

Satisfied, she pulled herself up into a crouch; the space was not high enough for her to stand in, but she could see an exit through a break in the rubble above her head. From there, she would be able to crawl out and find a way down to Caius. Lana checked to ensure that her lightsaber hadn't been lost in the fall, then shimmied up through the darkness and out of the space she had been enclosed in (a much more difficult feat than she had imagined, as it seemed that her muscles were rather disgruntled after the unforeseen fall and resulting entrapment beneath all of that concrete).

It took Lana a painfully long amount of time to navigate her way through the wreckage, maneuvering around and over large swaths of broken concrete and debris. When she deemed it safe enough, she moved obstacles through the Force, giving herself openings or building bridges between gaps that would allow her to travel further down. She called out to Caius periodically as she scrambled or leapt or squeezed her way through a rift. Each time, however, she was answered only by the echo of pebbles and dust skittering to the bottom of the ravaged elevator shaft.

When at last she stood just above the place from which she sensed his presence, Lana called his name again, carefully. "Caius?"

Nothing.

She leapt down to a wide patch of concrete and furrowed her brow. There was a large chunk of metal in the way; he had to be somewhere beneath it. Lana centered herself and raised both hands, lifting the metal with them, then tipped it up and on its side and looked down.

Caius was trapped under what remained of the lift they had been standing on. Only his head was visible; his face was bruised and scraped, and his ebony hair was caked with blood, but he was alive.

 _Focus_. Her throat tightened to cut off the overflow of worry that was brewing in her chest. She needed to breathe, to remain collected. For Caius. Deftly, Lana raised the broken lift from his still form and moved it aside.

"Caius," she said his name again, rushing to his side. She cupped his face in her hands. "Caius…." Swallowing, she gently removed the bulk of his armor and examined his injuries. Both of his legs had been broken—presumably when the lift had initially crushed him; they were badly swollen below the knees, and one of them was twisted at an unnatural angle. She pressed her ear to his chest. His heart was beating rapidly; it fluttered beneath his skin like a trapped bird. Lana couldn't hear any wheezing or other abnormal sounds in his lungs, and when she carefully explored his rib cage with her fingertips, she couldn't detect any obvious breaks. Delving further, she attempted to sense his injuries as she had her own. His ribs were, in fact, whole and unbroken. His left collarbone had been shattered. There was a deep gash at the back of his scalp, but his skull was free of any obvious fractures, and Lana didn't detect a brain bleed. There was a prominent fracture in his left wrist, as well, but his vital organs and his chest cavity appeared to be intact.

Breathing a sigh of relief—these were injuries she knew she could fix—Lana settled herself onto her knees and struggled to keep her hands from shaking. She started with his legs; such obvious fractures could easily cause more complications if she didn't hurry. Lana folded her hands on her lap, entwining her fingers, and closed her eyes.

 _The_ thud _of Caius' knees as he falls from his carbonite tomb and onto the cold metal before her, sweating and shaking and_ alive _. Five years of searching, of fighting and interrogating and subterfuge, and here he is before her, within arm's reach. All of her strength is spent in this moment, this miracle, as she fights to maintain her composure, to keep herself from throwing her arms around him. She decides right here and now that she won't ever lose him again. Not ever._

Caius' legs had been mended when Lana opened her eyes. Her breathing was ragged from strain, and droplets of sweat left tracks through the grime on her cheeks.

That is, she assumed it was sweat, for it tasted of salt. The other option was unacceptable. She moved to the fracture in his wrist and the remnants of his collarbone.

 _He comes to her after their escape from the swamps, worry lingering like a shadow behind his dark eyes. He's sorry for something, but he won't say. Not yet. He gestures to her wounded arm and she shakes her head, knowing full well that he will continue to fuss over it later. She deflects his worry with a joke; he flirts—his own deflection—and in all of the silliness she is grateful for the magnitude of his presence and the steady strength he embodies. She steps closer as he reaches for her hands._

When the slivers of his collarbone had been carefully put back into place and fused together, and when his wrist was once again whole, Lana turned to the last of Caius' more prominent wounds: the gash in his scalp. This time, she leaned forward to cradle his head in her hands, one palm enclosing his wound like a letter partially sealed.

 _They sit in Odessen's cantina, in one of those corner booths that are unofficially reserved for quiet talks and sweet nothings and drinks that are more about taste than alcohol. As the others revel in a recent victory, she sighs and leans back against him, pressing her ear to his chest as he hums pleasantly. Time passes and they have no need for words; not until she falls asleep against him and later wakes up, bleary, to find him gazing down at her, his eyes intense and warm and maybe a little concerned. She raises a careful eyebrow and yawns. He grins warmly and then he says it, out of nowhere, like it's the most natural thing in the world. It's the first time he says those words. The first of many._

* * *

Lana opened her eyes as Caius shifted beneath her touch. He grimaced, his bruised and bleeding face colored with pain, and his eyelids fluttered open to see her kneeling above him. He blinked several times.

"Easy," Lana said, ensuring that the remnants of his laceration had disappeared before moving on to heal the worst of the swelling around his eyes. "I've got you."

Caius grunted, drawing in a careful breath, and attempted to focus through the fog that had enveloped his mind. "Lana," he rasped, astutely aware of the warmth of her hand against his cheek, "I…I think my legs are broken."

Lana finished her mending and gazed down at him; finally, that awful tightness in her chest was beginning to subside. "They were," she confirmed. "Can you try to move them for me?"

He blinked again, his bloodied face pulling into a scrunched expression as he tested the muscles in his legs. Their response was sluggish at best, but they moved without any significant pain. "I see you've already—" Caius paused, his eyes locked on hers, and then he leaned a bit closer. "Wait, are those...tears?"

Lana released him and sat upright, abruptly wiping the evidence from her reddening cheeks. "Don't be ridiculous," she chided half-heartedly. _Too bad it isn't just a little darker in here_. "It's just sweat." She looked down at her hands, turning her fingers over as though they held something incredibly interesting, but they were empty. "It takes a lot of work to keep you in one piece, you know."

"Mmm. So you sweat from your eyes, then."

"Oh, hush."

Caius hummed in amusement and braced an arm across his chest as he sat up—too quickly, evidently, as his vision instantly became spotted and his head swam.

Lana caught his wavering form, shifting closer and guiding his shoulders as his head slumped forward and into her chest. "Careful," she whispered. "You've lost a lot of blood." She wrapped one arm around his broad shoulders and brought the other hand up to rest against the back of his head, holding him close. He sighed against the fabric of her tunic. His usual piney, metallic scent was tinged with blood and concrete dust; Lana folded inward until her head was resting atop his, enveloping him in her nearness.

"I suppose I gave you a quite scare," Caius mumbled. The deep cadence of his voice was warm against her chest.

Lana squeezed tightly, clinging to him. "Yes...it's a nasty habit of yours. I do wish you would stop."

"Sorry."

"It's alright."

Caius' voice was low and tired. "It isn't, though." He sighed again, a drawn, pensive wisp of air that tugged at her insides. Before Lana could address that comment, however, he changed the subject. "Believe it or not," he said, "this was not how I planned on finishing the day."

"Oh? What did you have in mind?"

Caius shifted, sleepily lifting his head so that he could see her face properly. "Well, for starters, a candlelit dinner…."

Lana bit back a snort. "Is that so? And were you planning on cooking said dinner yourself?"

"Of course."

"Really?"

"Mmm," Caius flashed her a mischievous grin, "I might have employed 2V's help." He reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "But only because my expertise in cooking is limited to the prepackaged meal I happen to choose."

Lana chuckled and reached for the scattered pieces of his armor. She chose a bracer and clasped it around his wrist, quietly fastening the clips as he watched her. "Well then, I suppose you owe me a candlelit meal—prepackaged or not." She winked at him, eliciting a smile, and Caius began donning the rest of his outer armor. As he tugged his cloak around his shoulders, he focused in on the pocket where the two rings were hidden; relief swelled in his chest when he detected their telltale _hum_.

Caius glanced up at Lana. In the darkness, her face looked drawn and tired. The right shoulder of her tunic was spotted with blood, and soot and grime had rendered her blonde hair nearly grey. "You alright?" he asked.

"I will be." Lana slowly pulled herself to her feet, tugging Caius along with her. They paused for a moment, wavering, her arm looped steadily through his. She peered up through the darkness. "Think your optimism can get us out of here?"

"Doubtful." He smirked down at her. "My brute force might prove useful, though—pun intended."

"Uh-huh." Lana pulled lightly on the sleeve of his robe, fixing a crease in the fabric, then pressed a kiss to his shoulder. "Works for me. Let's try not to bury ourselves completely on the way out though, love."

Caius returned her affection with a kiss of his own, placed delicately atop her head. "I'll do my best."

* * *

Between Caius' blood loss and Lana's exhaustion after healing him, the two Sith moved up through the wreckage at a disdainfully slow rate. They took turns clearing a path when the way was barred; when they deemed it too risky, however, the two opted for a detour through an opening in the debris or up and over a different obstacle. More than once they had to pause and rest.

When at last he felt the cool rush of sea air against his back, Caius breathed a sigh of relief. "Here," he leaned down and offered a hand to Lana, who gratefully took it and allowed him to hoist her up and out of the rubble.

She bent over to place her hands on her knees. "Finally," she exhaled, stifling a cough. Lana straightened and wiped a hand across her brow. "We must have been unconscious for quite some time. The stars are out."

Caius nodded tiredly and ran a hand through his matted hair. "Yes." He tapped a finger to his ear and was gratified with a static hum, confirming that his comm was back online. "Forget the bike," he said to Lana, raising an eyebrow. "I'll have 2V pick us up in the _Fury_."

Lana hummed in agreement and shifted her weight, trying and failing to assume a more comfortable position for her strained muscles. She surveyed the remains of the base as Caius made contact with the droid.

"2V—yes, we're still on the island. Right. Come pick us up, will you? Yes, we're fine. Relax—no, I'm not going to have your circuits fried for that—agh, just hurry up. Thank you." Caius sighed and bent down to examine a chunk of debris. He stared at it for a moment, apparently lost in thought, while Lana stood several paces away. She was about to say something when she heard rustling in the bushes just above them. Immediately reaching for her lightsaber, she rushed to Caius' side and ignited the red blade, marring the stillness of the night air with its scarlet hum. She stepped in front of him just in time; sensing the bolt of a blaster's laser before she heard it, Lana raised her blade and deflected it with a flick of her wrist.

Caius pulled his own weapons out in a flurry of sudden energy. "Nothing's ever easy, is it?" he growled, his usual optimism having been thoroughly exhausted for the day, and then he took off in the direction of the blaster fire.

Lana grunted and followed after him. More fire ensued; judging by the amount, however, she surmised that there was only one attacker. Caius deflected the lasers with practiced ease, aiming them back at the assailant. Just before they reached the bushes, he blocked one last flurry of bolts and there came a shout of pain. The onslaught abruptly ceased.

Lana came up beside Caius as they stepped through the foliage. He lowered one lightsaber, using it as a light source as the body of their attacker came into view.

She knew it, somehow, before she looked down to confirm her suspicion, before Caius glanced over at her and before he said a word.

"Damn. He's practically a kid."

Lana deactivated her lightsaber and clenched her jaw until it ached. Sprawled out on his back, his chest littered with the telltale peppering of blaster wounds, was the young man she had allowed to escape just hours earlier. A blaster lay discarded in the grass beside him; he must have grabbed it on his way out of the base.

Caius leaned down and pulled a device from the attacker's belt. He turned it over in his hand, frowning. "This looks like…."

"A remote detonator." Lana stared down at the body, struggling to maintain an expression of placid indifference. _I did this_. _We_ _could have died. I did this. Why did I let him go?_

"If that's true, he waited until the slaves were free to blow the place. Why?"

Lana turned away; she was suddenly sick to her stomach. "A timer, maybe? It doesn't matter now." She pinched the bridge of her nose. In her mind's eye, she saw the bottomless depths of a dark ocean.

There was the _slide-scrape_ of Caius' blades as he switched them off and returned them to his belt. The landscape fell back into darkness, devoid of its previous red hue.

"Lana?" Caius rested a gentle hand upon her shoulder. It would be impossible to conceal her sudden torrent of emotions from him, and so she relented.

She tipped her head back and gazed at the stars. "I did this," she said simply, allowing the broken words to drift into the open air.

Caius shifted his grip, allowing his hand to trail down her arm and fall back to his side. "Don't be silly, Lana. You—"

"Caius," she turned around so that she could face him. Her golden eyes flashed in the darkness, all pain and regret and confusion. "I let this man go. Do you understand? I let him go, and he buried us. At the time, I thought it might be the right thing to do, but...you could have _died_ , Caius. I don't…I was just…I'm such a _fool_."

"Hey." Caius brushed his fingers under her chin, lifting her head up. "You didn't do this."

"I did."

"No." He shook his head. "You made a choice, Lana, and he made his."

Her eyes darted back and forth as she gazed at him, taking in all of his features. "I chose wrong," she whispered. "I chose wrong."

There were times—many, in fact—in which Lana was vulnerable with Caius. Not just the more obvious moments of openness shared between two lovers, but others: small, delicate, whispered tells that she saved only for him. A hand on his arm at the end of a mission debriefing, silently requesting an early respite. The way she nestled her head into the curve of his shoulder when they slow danced. Her laughter, pure and lilting, when they were alone.

But this? This vulnerability was different, somehow. Raw and unprecedented and... _conflicted_. Lana looked so small then, so isolated, with her arms pulled close to her sides and her cheeks stained with ash and her golden eyes cooled by sadness and self deprecation. It was an unfamiliar sight to Caius, one that struck a chord of fear within his chest, and out of desperation he stepped closer.

"Come here," he said as he wrapped her up in a tight embrace. Caius half expected her to pull away, but instead she folded into his arms like a rose pressed between the pages of a well-loved book. "You didn't choose wrong," he whispered.

Lana's voice was muffled against the fabric of his robe. "How can you be so sure?"

"I'm sure because I know you," Caius answered simply.

"No, I mean…." Lana pulled slightly away so that she could look up at him, although her hands remained clasped to his forearms. "You're always so certain, in every situation. You just...you know what the right way is. How do you do it?"

Caius gazed down at her with a somewhat curious expression. "Well, I don't. Not exactly. You see—"

Just then, there came the reverberating _hum_ of the _Fury_ 's engines as it swept over the trees and descended onto the expanse of beach not far from where they were standing. Lana opened her mouth to say something, but seemed to change her mind. Her eyes clipped toward where the ship was now waiting. "Come on—we can talk about this later. After that meal you promised me, perhaps?" She forced a brittle grin.

Caius slid his arms from hers and squeezed her hand once, earnestly. Then he nodded and turned to walk beside her as they made their way out of the foliage and across the sand.

* * *

It was as though all of their earlier exhaustion came back twofold as soon as the door hissed shut behind them. Lana rounded the corner to the cockpit and slumped down in one of the copilot chairs, a sigh escaping unbidden from her lips. Caius chose to ignore 2V's usual word vomit, opting instead to follow straight after Lana, and he tapped in the coordinates to their oasis before plopping himself down beside her with a grunt.

She watched him for a moment, musing sleepily that she wished she could see more of his face behind that mess of black hair. "Your hair is looking a bit shaggy, dear," she yawned.

Caius turned to her with an expression of contained amusement, his eyebrows raised. "Really? I thought you liked my hair?"

"Well, I do," Lana conceded. "But...I like your face more, I suppose. I feel like I'm missing out."

He snorted. "You _are_ tired."

"Quite."

Caius smiled softly. "It will be a while before we're home," he said. "You can go to sleep, if you'd like. I'll wake you when we arrive."

Lana's mouth pulled into an uncharacteristically sleepy grin before she yawned once more. "I might take you up on that," she said.

And she did.

* * *

Caius remained for a time, watching over Lana as she slept—more out of habit than need, as he knew that logically they were safe now—until the _Fury's_ holoterminal chimed from around the corner. Suppressing a groan, the Sith dragged his reluctant body out of the chair and into the common area, pausing momentarily until another rush of lightheadedness subsided. He answered the holocall to see Theron's image hovering before him.

"Where the hell have you been? I've been calling for hours!" The spy crossed his arms over his chest, his face pulled into a fierce scowl.

Caius sighed. "Don't you ever sleep?"

"Not when you two are out galavanting around the galaxy. Seriously, do you know how close I was to sending out a search team?"

"You sound like Lana."

Theron groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose—also reminisce of the blonde Sith lord. "Why do I even...alright. Are you both okay? Where's Lana?"

Caius scuffed his boot against the metal deck. "Sleeping. She's fine—we're both fine. A little banged up, but with some rest we'll be back to normal."

"Good." Theron paused for a moment, staring intensely at Caius' image. "So...I'm guessing it didn't go as planned?"

"No, indeed. We managed to free the slaves, however."

"Nice. And the data on Umbra?"

Caius sighed again. "Nothing but a corrupted drive. It has a few conversations, but most of it has been tampered with. I'll have Lana send you the recordings in the morning."

Theron grunted. "Well, I guess it's better than nothing." He narrowed his eyes at the Sith. "You look awful. Did you guys blow the place up?" When Caius hesitated, the former SIS agent frowned. "Knew it."

" _We_ didn't blow up anything. It was one of the slavers."

"Uh-huh."

Caius rolled his eyes heavily. "Oh for pity's sake, Theron, go get some sleep."

The spy chuckled, sending a brief flare of light through the cybernetic implants above his left eyebrow. "Alright, alright. You too. And I'm glad you guys are safe—try to keep it that way, yeah?"

"Of course," Caius said, and then the holoterminal flickered off.

* * *

As it turned out, Caius didn't keep his promise to Lana by waking her up when they arrived. Oh, he considered it, of course—but only for as long as it took him to glance down at the peaceful expression on her face. She wasn't a particularly heavy sleeper, but he assumed that after the day's (and night's) excursion, it would take quite some effort to wake her.

And so, instead, Caius gently scooped Lana into his arms and carried her off the ship. He would never fail to wonder at how light she was—all of that power and wisdom stuffed into her small, deceitfully delicate frame. She snuggled comfortably into his chest as he swept through the door to their home and past the kitchen on rubbery legs. Knowing that Lana would balk if he deposited her on the bed in her current state—the sheets would never come clean from all of their dirt and blood—he opted for the couch. Slowly, carefully, he lowered her onto the loveseat, ensuring that she was in a comfortable position by fixing a pillow beneath her head and removing her boots. He stood watching her for a moment, confirming that she was still asleep, before he ambled slowly down the hall and into the bathroom for a much-needed shower.

* * *

Lana woke to the scent of cooking food. Bleary, she yawned and rubbed at her eyes before slowly pushing herself up from... _the couch_? She frowned for a moment, attempting to focus through the murk of _tired_ that muddled her recall. Caius must have carried her inside. Lana ran a hand through her hair and smiled in spite of herself. _Of course he did_.

"Good morning, sunshine," the deep baritone of Caius' voice came drifting over to her, and she snorted.

"Is it really morning?" Lana asked, pulling herself with a pained grunt from the couch so that she could see him. He was standing in the kitchen, just sliding some sort of heated meal onto a plate before glancing over at her. His ebony hair lay in damp, recently-shaken strands across his forehead and down the right side of his face, and he was wearing a loose pair of trousers under a robe that was open in the front; Lana could see a flash of his bruised abdomen when he turned to face her.

"Don't worry," he chuckled, "you were only sleeping for about an hour. It's...well, I'm actually not sure what time it is. Middle of the night, probably." He tipped his head to the side as he regarded her; his face was scraped and colored with bruises from his fall, but at least he had taken the time to clean them. "I figured we should probably eat something, anyway. Hungry?"

Lana tugged at the edge of her tunic as she tilted her chin up, attempting to get a better look at his plate. "No candles?" She raised a teasing eyebrow at him.

"I'm afraid not. I'll make it up to you tomorrow, though—I promise." He gestured to his plate with a questioning look, awaiting her reply.

"Thank you, love, but I think I really just need to shower. I'll eat in the morning."

"Mmm," Caius cut a rather unappetizing bite of meat from his plate and swallowed thoughtfully before he spoke again. "Right, then. I'll make extra...I know you'll be stealing a few bites of mine after you've washed the stink off." He smirked as he moved to cut another slice.

"Ah, you know me so well." Lana chuckled as she grabbed her boots and headed for the bathroom. As she reached the entrance to hallway, she purred over her shoulder, "It's a shame you already showered. You could've joined me."

Caius sputtered in the middle of his bite, choking, as she left him to stare after her with an expression that landed somewhere between the realms of regret and amusement.

* * *

Later, long past the time when Lana had finished her shower and stolen a few bites of Caius' meal (it tasted better than it looked), the two finally crawled into bed with matching sighs of relief.

Caius snorted as he stretched out on his back. "We sound like two old people," he mused, smirking over at Lana.

She sighed and snuggled closer to him. Her hair—still damp from the shower—was cool against the bare skin of his chest. "Well, we aren't exactly young anymore, I suppose."

"Speak for yourself."

"Oh?"

Caius' voice was low and laden with much-needed sleep. "I mean, I was frozen in carbonite for five years….I didn't age during that time."

"Ah, I see," Lana huffed an amused sigh. "Well, with age comes wisdom, dear."

"Whatever you say, grandma."

"Ass." Lana chortled and pinched a rib, causing him to squirm until she relented with an airy chuckle. "Not so tough now, hmm?"

Caius relaxed; leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to the top of her head and trailed his fingers down her forearm, tracing a pattern between the freckles. "I'm afraid you know all of my weaknesses, Miss Beniko." He hummed faintly and closed his eyes, imagining what tomorrow would bring.

 _Tomorrow_. Caius thought to the pair of rings hidden in the nightstand beside him. A nervous flutter passed briefly through his chest, but it didn't last. _This has been a long time in coming_ , he reminded himself, swallowing the anxious patter. He looked down at Lana once again; her breathing had slowed, and she was already falling back asleep. _A long time coming, indeed_.

"Caius?" The sleepy cadence of her voice drifted liltingly up to him.

"Hmm?"

Lana shifted slightly, pressing her ear to his chest and clinging to him just a little tighter. "About earlier, before we left the island...I don't want you to worry." There came a flicker of that vulnerability, hesitant yet crisp.

Caius brought his other arm up to hug her tightly. "I know," he said simply.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow?" Lana asked.

Caius smiled. "Tomorrow," he agreed.

* * *

The sun rose early that next morning—and yet, in spite of his exhaustion, it could not rise early enough for Caius.

 _Today is the day_.

He lay in bed for a while, staring at the ceiling and the play of light brought on by the high windows of their bedroom. Yesterday's rain was gone; a hesitant gleam of morning sunlight had replaced it: the hopeful stretch of a new plant, born from the ashes of old mistakes and bitter losses. Caius glanced over to see that Lana was curled up beside him in her accustomed sleeping position. A few of her blonde hairs stirred with each breath, lifting slowly from her face like delicate, golden feathers of pure light.

After a time, Caius quietly slid out of bed and began readying himself for the day, pulling on a clean set of robes and fastening the various clasps of his armor. He tiptoed around the fire pit and paused in front of his nightstand. Lana hadn't stirred yet—swiftly, he opened the bottom drawer and slipped the rings into his pocket, where they would be easily accessible later. Then he headed out of the room and down the hall to prepare some breakfast.

* * *

Caius was up to something. Lana wasn't sure _what_ , exactly, but she could see the subtle signs, the tells he unconsciously gave when he stared at his plate for just a little too long during breakfast, or the way he kept fidgeting with one of the pockets in his robes. She wasn't going to say anything—she really wasn't. But then he poured coffee into a bowl instead of a cup and proceeded to reach for a handle that wasn't there.

"Um, Caius, dear?"

He looked up as though startled. "Yes?"

Lana finished her last bite of eggs and managed to swallow without laughing—a feat she was far too proud of, if she was being honest with herself. "That's a bowl."

"Oh...ah, right, of course it is. I was just, ah…." He hastily transferred his coffee to a mug while he attempted to form a logical excuse.

Lana stood and deposited her dishes in the sink. "Everything alright?" she asked.

Caius sniffed at his beverage and frowned. He had, apparently, made it too strong. His eyes flickered from over the rim of his mug. "Yes, everything's fine—better than fine, actually."

"Really."

"Uh-huh." Giving up on his morning coffee altogether, Caius deposited the mug on the counter and steadied himself with a deep breath. He gave Lana a winsome smile. "How about a walk? I'll bet we can make it up to that cliff by the afternoon."

Lana examined him for a moment, wondering just what it was that had him so ruffled this morning. "Alright," she agreed. "Let's go."

* * *

It seemed as though the fresh air did wonders for Caius' mind, for he appeared to be his normal, collected self almost as soon as they made it out the door. After checking on Tully (she was doing quite well, considering the ordeal she went through the previous morning), the two made their way along the trail, settling into a comfortable silence for quite some time. The forest seemed especially tranquil after yesterday's rain; it held all of the crisp, vibrant smells of damp soil and freshly-watered trees.

Such was their contentment as they traveled that it was nearly an hour before either of them spoke. The ground was beginning to take them up at a slow incline. "So," Lana finally (and somewhat regretfully) broke the silence, "you seemed a bit... _distracted_...at breakfast this morning. Are you quite sure you're alright?"

"I am." Caius, who was walking just a few paces ahead of her, turned to address her over his shoulder. "I was just—well...you'll know soon enough, I suppose." Lana frowned, wondering what exactly he meant by that. She didn't sense any dread or fear in him, however, and so she assumed that whatever it was couldn't be so bad. "Anyway, about yesterday: we never finished our conversation."

"Right," Lana chimed, stepping over a large, knotted root. A few hours of sleep had helped stem the flow of unease within her; all of the processing she had been doing over the last day or so didn't seem quite so daunting, now. Not yet. "I was just thinking…." She paused as she searched for the right words. How would she describe her thoughts, that path of conflict and dread she had been wandering so uneasily down? "Caius," she blinked and stepped past a low-hanging branch as he held it out of the way for her, "do you think I'm Dark?"

"Dark?" He took the lead again, giving her a questioning look as he passed.

Lana tucked an unruly strand of hair behind her ear. "Yes. What I mean to say is...well, I _use_ the Dark Side, of course. Not exclusively. But at my core, when you look at me—I just—" She frowned. _I sound completely insane_. "I've been trying to find the right way, you understand. And I think that _you_ know what it is—that is, you exemplify it, to me. And at your core, when I look at you...I see _Light_."

Caius' thoughtful hum drifted amongst the trees as he considered her words. "Is this what's been bothering you lately?" he asked.

"I suppose so." She picked a leaf from a nearby tree and tore it in half before letting the pieces drift to the damp ground. "I don't know how you do it," Lana continued, pushing past her hesitancy. "You always seem so assured, so certain. I just...I don't want to drag you down. Does that make sense?"

At that, Caius stopped abruptly and spun around to face her. "What? _Drag me down_?" He stared at her, mouth slightly agape, a look of something sharp—something akin to _hurt_ , of all things—cutting across his face like the scars that marked his skin. "Lana," he grabbed her arms firmly, but not enough to smart, "Do you have any idea who you are to me?"

"I—"

"Listen to me. Do you know how I make those decisions?" he asked, the baritone of his voice producing a hum that passed through his chest, down his arms and into hers. "The truth is that I'm _not_ always certain. Hell, half the time I have no idea what I'm doing. I just choose a path because I have to, because no one else will, and because lives are at stake if I remain standing still. As for the right way…." He paused, biting into his lower lip. "Somewhere along the way I learned that people aren't tools or stepping stones or even servants. They're _people_ , plain and simple, and that means that they have worth."

Lana stared at him, unsure of what to say. Caius' grip softened. "Lana," he said, "I can make those decisions because I know that you'll be there to steer me in the right direction when I mess up. Do you know what guides me—more than my ideals, my aspirations, or my obligation as a Commander?" He pressed closer, his dark eyes intense and fathomless and filled to the brim with will. " _You_ guide me. You do."

"Caius, I…." her whisper drifted away, unfinished, left open by the raw honesty of his confession.

One hand ghosted up to brush across her cheek. When he looked at her then, she knew—he _saw_ her, deep down, where the truest part of her was unblemished by perception or bias or the opinions and teachings of those around her. "So no," he finished, so softly that she barely heard it, "you aren't Dark, Lana. You're Light—Light in its purest and truest form. And that, my love, is the truth."

She swallowed heavily, reaching up to lay a hand over the top of his, where it still rested against her cheek. "Not even when I choose wrong?"

Caius sighed: a soft, warm sound. "No. I think that, at its deepest level, Light isn't exactly a destination. It's a process—a constant striving and dwelling and seeking...Light is...the acceptance that we are never truly finished, and the determination to keep running the race, to keep learning and growing."

Lana considered those words, mulling them over in her head and her chest, where she would keep them sealed and safe and applicable. "Thank you," she breathed, because in the face of such a revelation she wasn't sure how to properly respond. Later, perhaps. Later she would find a way. Lana held onto his hand for a moment and allowed herself to smile—true and relieved—before she squeezed his fingers and placed a kiss on his gloved palm. "Come," she said, "let's press on."

And so they did.

* * *

It was another two hours of walking before they neared the furthest part of the island. The ground rose sharply up and trees parted to reveal a grassy plateau, from which the land fell away in the form of a cliff. Caius neared the edge and peered down; it looked to be about a hundred-foot drop to the ocean below. Stepping back, he stood beside Lana and crossed his arms over his chest with a great _huff_ , lightly bumping her arm with his.

She smiled in silent reply, leaning her head against his shoulder for a moment. "It's beautiful," she said. From there, the water was a dazzling, vibrant blue, and the afternoon sun split the clouds above, sending rays of light their way.

Caius returned her smile. "Worth the hike?" he asked.

"Every bit."

He hummed pleasantly. For a time, they remained like that, gazing out across the water, where the sun was. Caius took in the view as he mulled over his next words. The nervousness he had experienced that morning was gone, now, replaced by warmth and certainty. The setting was perfect—more than a little cliché, of course, but he assumed that Lana wouldn't mind. The rings hummed in his pocket as though they had a certainty all their own. He was ready. This was the time, this was that great, unreachable _finally_.

Caius took in a steady breath. "Lana," he ventured, "in truth, I...brought you up here for more than just the view."

"Oh?" She surveyed the waves, her golden eyes reflecting the sun with a slight flicker of dazed amusement. "And what would that be?"

"Well," he said, slowly reaching for his pocket, "You once told me that you aren't keen on titles." Caius paused as his fingers reached the delicate chains. "But...how would you feel about 'wife'?"

"I—" Lana blinked as she turned to face him, attempting to register what he had just said. "What?"

Caius finally removed the rings from his pocket and held them in his outstretched palm like an invitation. His eyes were steady, solid, _sure_. A slight smile played on his lips. "Marry me, Lana," he said.

Her face lit up with color, a thousand shades of red at once—but still nowhere near as bright as those eyes, golden and beautiful and deep. Several thoughts passed through her mind in that moment, all of them positive. But the one word that lingered, the one that lasted, the one that gave her her answer, was _finally_. She exhaled; a laugh escaped her lips. "Yes," she said, reaching for his hands. "A thousand times, yes."

Caius laughed then, too, all joy and relief and, like her, _finally_. He slipped one of the chains around her neck and clasped it for her; afterward, she did the same for him. Then, unable to contain herself, Lana threw her arms around his neck and he hugged her fiercely, lifting her from the ground as they spun in a tight circle. When at last they pulled apart she returned just as quickly for a long and lasting kiss.

"Too cliché?" Caius asked when they came away for a breath.

Lana chuckled. "No," she whispered. "No, it was perfect."

He reached out for her ring, running a thumb along its braided surface. "It's been a long time in coming," he said.

"A long time in coming, indeed," she laughed, and then she kissed him again.

It was then, in that timeless and blissful moment, that Caius first sensed a presence in the trees behind them. Lana must have sensed it too, for she spun around and pulled the lightsaber from her belt in a habit of second nature.

A familiar voice rippled from the trees. "Well, well," the man purred, "what a beautiful moment—I would say that I'm sorry for spoiling it, but that would be a complete lie, I'm afraid."

Caius ignited his lightsabers and twirled one in his hand as the intruder stepped out of the trees. In many ways, he looked the same: sickly yellow eyes, skin pulled and stained grey with Dark Side taint, little spindles of black spooling from the edges of his lips and across his hairless scalp. He wore the same style of armor (though a much smaller size, as he was quite thinner than the last time Caius saw him) and he wielded the same violet lightsaber, assumed the same arrogant, splayed stance.

Caius curled his lip. "Darth Baras," he growled, nearly spitting in disgust. "I see banishment did you at least some bit of good. I believe you had more...well... _girth_ , last time I saw you."

Baras snorted. "And I see that your time as Eternal Commander has not improved your wit, my old apprentice." He shifted his weight to the other leg, sneering.

Caius scoffed. "Spare me, old man."

Lana stood rigid, waiting, her eyes flashing between the two of them. She gave Baras a fierce glare. "Did you really come all this way for an old grudge?"

" _An old grudge_?" There was the simmering anger that Caius remembered so well. "Don't mock me, girl. This impudent _fool_ took everything from me," Baras snarled. "The one thing that kept me going on that Force-forsaken planet was the thought of rending him in two."

"Well then, this must be very embarrassing for you," Caius chided. "You don't really believe you can take both of us on, do you? I used to think you were smarter than that, Baras."

The old Sith rocked back on his heels, regarding his former apprentice with a look of smug anticipation. "Oh, I'm not alone. Not at all." Two more shadows emerged from the trees: pureblood Sith clad in loose, pitch-black robes with red trim.

"The Emperor's Hand," Caius addressed them with a stiff nod. "Might I ask why you've decided to ally with this traitor?"

Servant Two, ever-so-eloquent, said, "The Wrath betrays!"

"He speaks the truth," Servant One chimed in. "It's quite simple, really: you killed our former emperor. Therefore, you must die. Allying with Baras was simply a move made out of convenience."

Lana shook her head. "That doesn't make any sense," she muttered. "Shouldn't you serve Caius now? Or Empress Acina, perhaps?"

Servant One's red skin flashed in the sunlight when he turned his head. "Acina is a foolish upstart; she has no respect for the Old Ways. And neither does he," he said, gesturing toward Caius.

Servant Two ignited his double-bladed lightsaber with a snarl. "The Wrath betrays!" he shouted again. "He reeks of the Light."

Caius twirled his sabers. "It would seem that your opinion doesn't sit well with the rest of the Hand," he said. "Where are the other eleven?"

"Fools, all fools!" Servant Two spat on the ground.

Servant One pulled out his own lightsaber and held it aloft. "They are content with mediocrity; Acina has found a place for them behind the Council, but it is nothing more than a gilded cage. Only Two and I are willing to do what must be done. Vengeance is now paramount—it is the only way to honor our fallen Lord."

"You're both idiots," Caius growled. He exchanged a glance with Lana, who looked just as exasperated. "I'm guessing you three are behind Umbra, then? A clever lure so that you could plant a tracking device on my ship, perhaps?"

"My dear boy," Baras chortled from beside the other two, "I _am_ Umbra." Caius stared at him for a moment, and the old Sith continued: "Don't look so surprised. You, of all people, know how extensive my reach was across the galaxy. You don't think I would miss the presence of such an extraordinarily Force-sensitive boy on the isolated world of Hoth, do you?"

Caius gripped his lightsabers tighter, clenching his jaw. "You hired the bandits."

"Oh yes. And the Sith who 'saved' you?" Baras smiled; it was an unnaturally cruel expression. "Mine. The expediency of your Trials? Also my doing. Tremel was easily manipulated."

"Why?" Lana asked. "Why go through all of that trouble?"

Baras rolled his eyes. "One should never underestimate the value of a powerful apprentice. Given the opportunity and the sting of a well-made whip, they can take you to the heights of the galaxy." He sneered again. "How unfortunate it was that this one became tainted by the Light."

"You underestimated me," Caius growled, his voice low and wracked with pain. "And it would seem that you're willing to underestimate me again. You're a fool, Baras."

Baras stepped closer, his yellow eyes bulging and hungry. "Oh, I'm afraid _you_ are the real fool, my old apprentice. You should've killed me when you had the chance." And then the plateau exploded into a flurry of energy as the onslaught began.

Caius lept forward to meet Baras as he charged. Their sabers clashed; before Caius could strike with his offhand, Servant One lunged from the side, forcing him to give up his advantage in order to parry. Caius held off their attack for a moment, locked in time, until he gathered himself and sent a burst of Force energy in Servant One's direction. The pureblood Sith reeled, momentarily caught off balance.

Caius engaged Baras again. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Lana as she battled with Servant Two, parrying his double-bladed saber and sending a ripple of lightning toward Servant One, paralyzing him for the time being. Caius leapt, spinning, and landed on the other side of his former master. He cut toward him fluidly; his blades spun with grace and ferocity, each strike narrowly blocked by the older man. Baras attempted to stop him with a Force choke. Caius saw it coming, however, and deftly deflected the crippling attack by raising an invisible barrier. He struck again. This time, his blade made it through, but just barely; it sliced through the armor on Baras' shoulder and released a spray of blood. The old Sith howled and stepped back, narrowly missing another of Caius' attacks. Snarling, he pressed forward to meet his former apprentice, anger rippling off of him like so many waves of a black sea.

* * *

Lana was fighting too close to the edge. Servant Two's onslaught was nearly constant, his double-bladed weapon continually spinning, and it was all she could do to find an opening. It would be foolish to attempt to leap over him; his lightsaber would easily cut her in half. The pureblood twirled his blade again, cutting glowing rifts in the rock at her feet. Lana struck quickly; her attack forced him to pause, and she shot another bolt of lightning, stunning him. Taking her opening, she leapt to the side and around him so that his back was to the sea. _Just a few more steps_ ….She lunged again, forcing him to take another step.

Servant Two parried her next attack and sent a burst of fiery energy her way. Lana rolled backward and, consequently, straight into the warpath of Servant One, who was just getting back on his feet. Spinning, she deflected his attack—narrowly—and sidestepped, seeking an opening.

Lana struck low, aiming for his feet, then slid upward and pushed hard, forcing him back. She could hear Servant Two behind her. Just before he struck, there was a flash of energy as Caius rushed to her, parrying Two's attack while simultaneously throwing Baras backward with a jolt of energy. Sweat dripped from his forehead. "I've got you," he said, pushing Servant Two back, and then he was gone again, spinning and lunging and diving straight into the relentless fray.

* * *

Leaving Lana to deal with Servant One, Caius continued his attack on Baras and Servant Two. _How I loathe double-blades_ , he griped silently, blocking an advance from the pureblood's spinning saber. Baras sent a jolt of lightning his way, catching him in the side and sending Caius reeling backward as electricity burned through his veins. He managed to roll backward just before Baras lunged, throwing his weight into the strike. When his blade fell on thin air, however, Caius used the advantage to push him across the grass, sending him skidding onto his back.

Servant Two attacked again. Caius parried the double-bladed lightsaber and kicked hard at the pureblood's legs, forcing him backward. He used his momentum to strike high, plunging his lightsaber into Two's shoulder. The Sith cried out in pain. Caius struck with his other saber, cutting wide, and cleanly decapitated the second member of the Emperor's Hand. The body crumpled to the ground in a series of muffled _thumps_.

Panting, he turned back to Baras, who was just getting to his feet. They lunged at once, locking lightsabers. "You've lost, Baras," Caius growled. "Give it up."

"Foolish child," the older Sith spat. He pressed harder against Caius' two lightsabers, his breath hissing out as he strained. "You took everything— _almost_ everything—from me. Now," his eyes skated over to where Lana and Servant One were still battling perilously close to the edge. "Now, I'll take everything from you."

Caius knew before it happened. Baras wasn't there to kill him—not in a physical sense, not exclusively. He came to destroy him, completely and utterly. His old master slid his lightsaber up, shoving Caius back, and in the span of a breath he sent a wave of chaotic energy toward Lana and Servant One.

Caius regained his footing in what had to be slow motion. He turned, achingly, a cry tearing from his lips, and just in time he saw Lana as she toppled over the edge of the cliff, there one moment and gone the next.

Gone from the edge. Gone from the battle. Gone from Caius.

* * *

 **Please let me know what you think! (Again, sorry if it's too sappy. Ugh. Believe it or not, I'm really quite cynical about all of this in real life. Maybe I'm a closet romantic?) Anyway, I hope that I am portraying Lana accurately, especially in light of her relationship to Caius, as I mentioned in my A/N last chapter. Yay for *almost literal* cliffhangers!**


	6. A Silence of Specificity

Lana was falling.

She wasn't sure how it happened, exactly, but she vaguely remembered hearing Caius yell... _something_. She wasn't sure what. It was a terrifying sound. A helpless sound. It was something, she thought, that sounded horribly wrong, coming from his lips. And then the ground was gone from her feet and she was falling down, down, endlessly _down_ , until the endlessness ceased and she hit the water with a _crack_ that never reached her ears.

Darkness pressed in as the water pulled her further from the world. Such was her momentum that Lana collided with something sharp beneath the surface—hard enough for pain to lace through her veins as several of her ribs snapped. Blood curled around her; she wondered bleakly how it was that she was still conscious, how it was that she had managed to experience something so wonderful and so terrible in a matter of minutes—the most joyful moment of her life extinguished like a breath upon the flame of a flickering candle. As Light from the sun faded and Darkness pulled her ever downward, Lana saw the glimmer of her ring as it pulled against her necklace, her one last, lingering lifeline to the surface.

Grasping for something to remember, Lana recalled her last words to Caius: _Yes. A thousand times, yes._

If only she had time for a thousand.

If only she had time for just one more.

* * *

Caius spun from the cliff, his eyes red-rimmed and wild. The world around him fell into muted silence as he bore down on his old master. Baras was laughing—a chaotic, mirthless sound, as Caius imagined it, although he could hear nothing over the pounding of blood in his ears. He lifted his hand and threw such a violent wave of pure, undiluted Force energy at Baras that the old man was sent cascading into a nearby tree. The wood splintered and buckled; Caius closed his eyes and reached for that stream of air in Baras' throat. He saw it, saw the movement of particles, of life energy, saw the tissues straining as the old Sith gasped for breath.

"I showed you mercy when I exiled you, Baras," Caius growled, his voice so low that it was nearly imperceptible. "You should've accepted it."

Baras choked as he was lifted off the ground and pressed further into the tree. Slivers of wood were suspended in the air around him as though locked in some invisible cage; a trickle of blood dripped from his nose. His lightsaber fell to the ground, useless, as he fought for breath. "Mercy," he coughed, "is weakness. You are _weak_."

"Maybe," Caius hissed. "But I would rather be weak and right, than powerful and wrong." And with that, he reached once more for that thread of air, that last connection between life and death, and he cut it off. Baras thrashed as he choked for air; his eyes bulged, his sickly skin turned from grey to red to purple. The air crackled around him, bright and deadly.

Caius closed his eyes. There came a whisper through the pounding of blood in his ears, soft and urgent and somehow pleading. _You always seem so assured, so certain. I just...I don't want to drag you down. Does that make sense?_

He blinked. His Force grip loosened; Baras slid down the tree, head lolling to the side as he lost consciousness.

 _I think that, at its deepest level, Light isn't exactly a destination. It's a process—a constant striving and dwelling and seeking_.

His footsteps made no sound as he ran to the edge of the cliff. Caius looked down and into the face of Servant One, who had managed to latch onto a rocky outcropping as he fell.

The red-skinned Sith was nearly back to the top. "Wrath!" he spat. "Baras may have accomplished what he set out to do, but I will not stop until I've claimed vengeance for the Emperor." He reached for another handhold and heaved himself closer, clawing for the surface. "I won't...I won't stop. It's my duty. I'll see you dead. I'll—"

"Oh, shut up," Caius snarled, his affinity for patience extinguished by Lana's fall. "You made a mistake, One." He leaned down and grabbed the Sith by his collar, hoisting him up until he was eye-level with him. "And your lunacy ends here." Pressing the hilt of his lightsaber to Servant One's temple, Caius clenched his jaw and ignited the blade, driving it through the pureblood's brain and killing him instantly. He tossed the body aside and peered over the edge.

"Lana…." He couldn't see her. No body, no blood, nothing. And yet….

Surely she couldn't be dead. Not now, not after everything. He would've sensed it. He would _know_. Wouldn't he?

There was no time to climb down; the longer she was down there, the further she slipped away. Caius took several steps back and centered himself with a deep breath. He would need to kick away from the cliff in order to avoid hitting the rocks at the bottom. He returned his lightsabers to his belt and took off at a run, leaping over the edge with a jolt of Force energy that would give him more than enough clearance. And then, through the sea air and down into the waves, he dove.

* * *

All was darkness beneath the surface. Caius cut through with lithe grace, his form arching neatly through the waters and into the deep unscathed. Tucking, he paused for a moment and closed his eyes as he zeroed in on Lana's position.

 _There_. He had jumped over her; she was behind him now, a bit deeper, and ominously close to the cliffside. Caius propelled himself through the water and made it to her side in a matter of seconds. When he came close enough, he saw the cloud of blood, saw the pale hue of her skin, saw the rueful gleam of her ring as it tugged on her necklace, still reaching for the surface as a plant stretches toward the sun. Caius wrapped one arm around her and struck up toward fresh air, leaving a trail of her blood through the black waves.

He gasped as they broke the surface. His lungs stretched to welcome in the oxygen, pressing against his diaphragm to make more room, and he spared a glance at Lana as he kept them both afloat.

She wasn't breathing.

 _No_. Caius floundered against the waves, struggling to keep her head up as he hoisted her onto his back. He clung to one of her arms—flung limply over his shoulder—and headed for the closest beach.

"2V," Caius spoke into his comm as he swam. "2V, do you read me?"

" _At your service, Master_."

Relief swelled in his chest. "I need you to bring the _Fury_ to my location immediately." He ducked to cut through a wave and came up again, glancing back to make sure that Lana's head had cleared.

The droid's regret was clear through his mechanical inflection. " _I'm afraid I can't, my lord,_ " he said.

"Explain."

" _The ship has been sabotaged, Master. I'm quite perplexed...I can't get the engines to power on. Please don't—"_

Caius snarled against the waves, narrowly containing a shout of frustration. _Baras_. His earlier relief turned immediately to fear and something close to despair. Lana didn't have long. Even with her connection to the Force...he had to make it to that beach. He strained harder, pushing himself as he swam. Just a little farther.

"Forget it, then. Reroute emergency power to the med bay, and make sure—" Caius sputtered against a swell of water, coughing, before he continued. "—make sure a kolto tank is powered and ready. Do it now, quickly!"

" _Yes, Master. Right away!_ "

* * *

It seemed like hours—though it could only have been a few short minutes—before his feet scuffed against sand. Panting, Caius scrambled out of the water with Lana on his back and carefully deposited her on the beach. The sea lapped at their feet, dragging against his robes, and he cradled her face in his hands.

"Lana…." He didn't know it, of course, but his hunched form mirrored that of hers, not even twenty-four hours ago. Caius pressed his ear to her chest.

No heartbeat.

No airflow through the lungs.

Nothing.

He pulled Lana's outer robe away and positioned himself on his knees, hands laced on top of one another, just above her sternum.

 _One, two, three…._ Caius kept track of the compressions as he pumped. At _five_ , her sternum snapped. His eyes stung. At _fifteen_ , he paused to tilt her head back and give her two breaths, watching to make sure her chest rose slightly as his air reached her lungs. At _thirty_ , he gave her another two. Caius checked for a pulse.

Nothing.

"Damn it," he hissed as he resumed compressions. "Don't do this to me, Lana. Not now. Not after everything…." Sweat dripped from his forehead; Caius ran a hand back through his hair to keep it out of his face.

"Come on…." His breath hitched in his throat as he pressed. _Forty-one, forty-two, forty-three_. "Come on." Another two breaths.

Caius had seen CPR performed several times over the course of his life, mostly by various Imperial medics across the galaxy. Once, he saw Lana restart a person's heart through the Force. It was a risky technique—one that required early intervention as well as deftness and skill.

Skill that Caius simply didn't have.

Two more breaths. Still no pulse.

" _My lord,_ " 2V's voice crackled in his ear, " _I managed to get a kolto tank up and running. The med bay is prepped for your arrival, Master._ "

Caius was quiet for a moment. "Thank you, 2V," he finally said. "See what you can do about the engines. And.…" He paused to catch his breath as he focused on giving compressions. "Program my coordinates into the speeder bike, then send it my way." It was a nifty modification that Caius had installed only two weeks before—Koth's idea.

" _Right away, Master._ "

Caius settled back onto his knees and closed his eyes. Traditional CPR wasn't working.

He had to try.

He reached out, through the wreckage of Lana's rib cage and down to where her heart sat still and stubbornly complacent. He wasn't able to identify damage as accurately as Lana, but because it was an obvious break, he saw that one of her fractured ribs had punctured a lung. Another was broken severely enough that it had pierced through the skin. _That explains the blood in the water._ And it presented him with another problem: fluid in her chest cavity.

 _One thing at a time_ , he reminded himself, and returned his focus to her heart. The waves provided white noise for him as he conjured an image in his mind, a memory to keep him grounded as he urged the smooth muscle to resume pumping.

 _Golden eyes—the color of sunlight reflected atop the waves of a bottomless ocean. He leans against the bar in the Imperial Fleet's cantina, watching her as she sips her spiced wine. Tomorrow he leaves for Darth Marr's flagship; he doesn't know it yet, but he won't see her again for five years. Five years of nightmares and cold and sleep-but-not-sleep. Beneath those golden eyes are dark circles. It's been a long day for Imperial Intelligence. Still, she's taken the time to grant his request. To see him before he goes. Perhaps it's out of courtesy. Perhaps it's because she's simply too tired to care what her colleagues might think. Or perhaps, in some small way, they both sense it: a great rift that is approaching, an unfathomable_ something _that will cast its shadow across the galaxy once more. She sets her glass down and looks up at him, and he can see the word "goodbye" dancing just out of reach, waiting for its turn to grace her lips. He doesn't want to hear it, for some reason. He's come to hate that word. So before she can say it he crosses an invisible line and takes both of her hands in his, right in the middle of the cantina, where anyone can see if they glance their way. "Stay," he simply says, and he isn't certain, but...is that_ relief _in her eyes? And so she does. He rents his usual room on the main station and they spend a quiet night together; he takes the couch out of courtesy, giving her the bed, but he wakes up to find her hovering above him, a pillow clutched in her hands like a sparrow, and he scoots himself against the back of the overstuffed loveseat so that she can curl up next to him. It's the last night he will spend with her in a long, long time; the last night he will sleep peacefully, and the first night he will know for certain: he wants to spend_ all _of his nights like this—with her. Every last one._

* * *

Caius opened his eyes at the pulse of the first slow, reluctant _lub-dub_. Maintaining his tether through the Force, he urged it to continue, and, gradually, Lana's heartbeat increased in frequency. A cough tore from her chest; she rolled slightly to the side as water and blood streamed from her mouth. Her face was scrunched in an expression of pain as each ragged breath pressed against the devastation of her chest cavity.

"Easy," Caius whispered. He rested a hand against her cheek. There was still damage that needed repairing in her chest; her collapsed lung had to be taken care of.

Lana's feverish eyes opened slowly, their golden hue colored with acute pain. She hissed out a breath, straining her neck against the sand, as the agony of her fractured ribs jolted through her bloodstream.

"Lana," Caius said, "You have a collapsed lung. I'm going to get you back to the _Fury_ , but you don't want to be awake for the ride."

Something akin to a whimper escaped her lips, a sound so foreign and helpless that it wracked Caius to his core. Weakly, she grabbed ahold of his forearm. "Stay," she cried.

"I'm not going anywhere." He squeezed her hand. "Do you hear me? I'm right here. I've got you. Now, I'm going to close your mind so that you'll go to sleep…." Her grip tightened against his bracer, her eyes sharp. "Lana, you have to trust me." Her plagued gaze bore into him. Caius swallowed. "I'm right here," he said again. "I'm not going anywhere." Lana's grip loosened slightly, that glint in her eyes sputtering to a stop, and Caius took her pause as a go-ahead. He squeezed her hand one more time. "I'm sorry, love," he said, and then he passed his palm over her forehead, gently guiding her into unconsciousness.

* * *

By the time his speeder bike came zipping along the beach and parked itself on the sand beside him, Caius was shaking from exhaustion. He had managed to heal a few of the breaks in Lana's ribs, mending her sternum (or, at least, the worst of it, for he simply didn't have the strength or focus to restore all of the damage completely) and repairing a slew of minor cracks and bleeds in the bones. The rib that had punctured through her skin was certainly the worst of it—that, and her collapsed lung. With great effort and more than a few attempts, he was able to return the bone to its rightful place; Caius left the tear in the skin, however, for he would need it to draw the air and fluid from the space that held her shriveled lung; only then could the organ begin to expand once again. The removal of the fluid would have to wait until he got back to the _Fury_ , though. Caius wasn't sure he had the strength to do it now.

Trembling, he scooped Lana from the sand, cradling her head, and stumbled over to his bike. He retrieved a strap from the compartment under his seat. Then, settling himself onto the speeder, Caius gave himself enough room to seat Lana behind him, wrapped her arms around his middle, and secured her to him with the strap. It was a crude—but effective—way to keep her stable on the ride home.

He pushed his bike to the limit and sped off down the beach. As he shifted over to hug the treeline, Caius heard the distinct _thrum_ of another speeder pass overhead. He glanced up to see Baras, slumped and bleeding, disappear over the horizon in an Imperial-class cruiser.

 _Later_ , he promised himself. _Baras won't get off so easily this time._ Caius leaned into the accelerator and pressed on toward home.

* * *

The _Fury_ 's airlock door hissed open as Caius walked up the ramp on uncertain legs, Lana's unconscious form clutched in his arms like a lifeline.

2V was waiting beside the holoterminal; his red, lamp-like eyes blared in the glow of the ship's emergency lighting. "Lord Wrath! You look—"

"Not now, 2V," Caius cut him off as he rounded the corner to the ship's central room and headed straight for the med bay. He could sense Lana's heartbeat: faint, shallow pulses that dragged in time with his feet. Blood trickled from her mouth. "You have a kolto tank ready?" He reached the bed closest to the door and carefully laid down his burden, staring intently at Lana's face for any signs of change.

"Yes, my lord. And the equipment you requested."

"Good." He spied a metal tray at the bedside with a manual retractor and some surgical tubing, as well as a package of clean gauze. Caius removed the bulk of Lana's clothing, exposing her severely bruised and battered skin; the puncture wound where her rib had pierced through was a stark, jagged laceration that marred her left side. He grabbed the tubing from her bedside tray and gestured to 2V. "Come here," he ordered, and the droid obliged. "I need you to take that retractor and hold this wound open while I insert the tube."

2V grabbed the instrument and tipped his head to the side. "My lord, are you sure—"

"Just do it, 2V. We don't have time to debate." He had to get that fluid out before they submerged Lana in kolto. The droid positioned himself beside Caius and used the scissor-like instrument to push the edges of the wound apart, holding it open just wide enough for the Sith to insert the surgical tubing.

Caius exhaled as he closed his eyes, sensing the path he needed to take to ensure that he wouldn't miss his mark; sweat dripped from his brow. He had already expended nearly all of his energy.

2V shifted beside him without adjusting the retractor. "Master," he ventured.

" _What_?" Caius snapped (he had expended nearly all of his patience as well, it seemed).

2V's large eyes flickered. "Your hands are shaking, my lord."

Caius released a breath through his teeth and struggled to steady himself. "I know." He needed the tube to reach just a little further. _There_. He sensed the placement as it slipped between two ribs and into the pleural space, where Lana's shriveled lung was spasming with each breath. Caius grunted and leaned heavily against the table. His head was swimming. "You can release the retractor now," he told the droid, who obliged with a slew of mechanical whirring.

"Master?"

"I'm fine. Thank you, 2V. Now, I need you to get the kolto tank open while I finish."

"Of course, my lord." The droid ambled over to the tank and began fiddling with the locks at the top.

Caius pulled a nearby garbage pail over to the bedside and adjusted the surgical tubing so that the end hovered over the top. Just a few more moments of concentration….Shaking terribly, Caius lowered himself to his knees on the metal floor and closed his eyes yet again. He needed to draw the air and fluid out of Lana's pleural space and down through the tube; gravity would do the rest. Then he could mend the deepest tears before putting her inside the tank. Kolto was good for many things, but if it replaced the fluid she currently had in her chest cavity, it wouldn't allow her lung to expand again.

 _An image_. His exhausted mind flipped through the muddled photographs of his memory, searching for something clear to settle upon. _Just one more image, something to keep me grounded_.

 _The first time he sees her, she is shrouded in light—a delicate frame carrying the weight of wisdom and countless small, intricate truths. He came here because Arkous summoned him...but he stays because of her. They fall easily into each other's gravity, two planets drawn by the same stars, the same distant, unreachable lights. "A connection"—that's what she calls it. "An open affinity." That's how it starts, anyway. It will take several years and a carbonite tomb for them to call it "love."_

Caius opened his eyes long enough to confirm that the bloody fluid had been pulled from Lana's chest. He tried to bring himself to his feet, but as those distant, unreachable lights and the weight of his exhaustion closed in, the world fell back into darkness, and Caius was taken right along with it.

* * *

He woke to the blue glow of a kolto tank and the smooth metal paneling of the med bay's ceiling. Caius shot upright—and immediately regretted it; pain shot through his head and down his back as a testament to his overexertion. Hissing, he leaned forward and pressed a palm to his forehead. He blinked. 2V had, apparently, gotten him into a clean (and dry) pair of loose grey trousers with a matching tunic—Caius recognized them from one of the cabinets across the room. His right arm was wrapped in gauze. He frowned, trying to remember if he had injured it at some point, but he couldn't recall anything specific. _Maybe from that bout of lightning I took_ , he mused, remembering the battle at the cliff. Caius unwrapped a few loops and confirmed his suspicion: the skin was laced with an angry red burn, little tendrils of scorched skin running along his arm like streams branching from a scarlet river.

He sighed, waiting for a moment as the throbbing in his head dialed down from "hot and knife-like" to "mildly irritating," then pulled his sleeve back down and glanced over at the kolto tank. Lana was floating in the blue liquid; the lower half of her face was covered by an oxygen mask and its subsequent tubing, and she was clad in similar grey garb, although most of her skin was visible to maximize her exposure to the healing fluid. Her hair swirled around her like some otherworldly veil.

Caius slid his legs over the bed and hovered his feet over the cool floor, hesitating, before he leaned forward with a _tap_ and ambled over to the tank. He was still dizzy, but it was bearable if he moved slowly. Blinking, Caius pressed his left hand against the tank. The collision of warm skin and cool glass left a ghostly outline around his fingers. There, suspended in kolto with her pale skin painted blue by reflection, Lana appeared almost ethereal. Close, and yet... _far_. Unreachable. He pressed his forehead to the glass and sighed, both wistful and relieved. For now, at least, she was safe. He had done all he could.

 _Huh_ , he mused as he caught the glint of his necklace. Caius reached up and ran a thumb along the ring at its end. _2V left it on_. Closing his fingers around the precious token, he glanced around the room. Lana's matching necklace was perched atop a set of neatly-folded robes at the bedside. 2V must have washed their clothes while he was asleep.

"Master!" The droid came clanking into the room. "You're awake!"

Caius removed his hand from the glass and pinched the bridge of his nose as the sharp, mechanical vocals drove daggers into his throbbing head. "Ah," he grunted, "yes, 2V." He blinked several times as the ringing subsided. "You did well earlier. Thank you."

"Of course, Master," the droid chimed. He shifted in the doorway, his metal feet clinking against the floor. "So, you... _aren't_ planning on throwing me out the airlock anytime soon?"

Caius tugged at his collar and snorted. "No, 2V. Relax." He sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck, stretching the sore muscles there. "How long was I out?"

2V ambled over to the bed and pulled on the rumpled sheets until they were smooth. "Four hours, twenty-three minutes. I surmised that you would order me to finish tending to Master Beniko, however, so I'm afraid that the first twelve minutes of your sleep were spent on the floor, my lord."

Caius chuckled. "You surmised correctly." He ran a hand through his hair and found that it was gritty and matted, littered with the sea's contribution of salt and sand. "Agh. Keep an eye on Lana, will you? I need a shower."

"Yes, my lord," the droid bowed his head. "I thought you might say so—I've placed our fluffiest towel and a selection of soaps on your bed. I also diverted a small amount of power to your restroom; you should have more than enough warm water for the next fifteen minutes."

Nodding, Caius shuffled out of the med bay and padded across the central room, where his quarters lie dim and sterile from lack of use over the last several years. Grabbing the towel and a bar of soap that 2V had left on the foot of his bed, he stepped into his cramped bathroom and peeled the med bay's scratchy garb over his head with a pained grunt. His skin was mottled with bruises and scrapes; when he glanced in the mirror, Caius felt as though he was looking at some strange, purple-red tapestry that was spread across his abdomen and over his shoulders. Removing everything save his necklace, he turned the shower up as hot as it would go, then stepped into the water with a sigh of relief.

* * *

After just long enough for him scrub the pesky grains of sand from his skin and hair, Caius shut off the water and dried himself before wrapping a towel around his waist. He leaned against the sink; his palms dug into the cold surface, bracing him. He frowned at his reflection. His face was littered with cuts and one of his eyes was deeply bruised from the day before; Lana had healed the worst of the damage, however. Beneath the discoloration, his old scars seemed less obvious. Caius ran a finger along one of them, tracing its path down his forehead, through his right eyebrow and all the way down to his chin. Lana seemed to like his scars. She often traced them herself, creating a path of momentary beauty where old hurts used to be.

Caius closed his eyes and bowed his head. His bare shoulders tensed as he gripped the sink, forming a gradual slope.

 _I've been trying to find the right way...and at your core, when I look at you...I see_ Light _._

Lana had always believed in Caius; longer, he suspected, than even she was aware. It was something that had always kept him going when times were at their darkest. She knew he wasn't perfect, of course—far from it. But….

He had let her down today.

Sparing Baras all those years ago had nearly gotten her killed. Hell, he wasn't even sure if she was out of the water yet. Not truly. It was, at this point, a waiting game. Caius blinked down at his right arm, tracing the pattern of his electrical wound with a dark gaze. For all his accomplishments, all his near misses, his affinity for the Force and his ability to lead relatively well, he was still human. A man, fallible and uncertain and prone to mistakes.

He knew others often forgot that. He was Commander of the Eternal Alliance, after all. He was an icon, a symbol. Thus it had become one of Caius' aspirations from the start to remind himself that he was still just _some guy_. If he fell into that persona of _Commander_ for too long, he could easily put others at risk. And that risk, that negligence, was unacceptable.

But somewhere along the way, bit by bit, it would seem that he _had_ forgotten. He had become careless in his pursuit of Light and the "right way," as Lana called it. Oh, he knew that making "right" decisions did not make them easy, of course. There were always consequences. And yet...what if, someday— _today_ , even—the consequence was Lana's life? Would he go on running?

Could he?

He should have killed Baras, all those years ago. Caius gripped the edge of the sink until his hands ached. His dark eyes snapped back to his reflection, sharp and heavy with judgment. He blinked at his long, shaggy mess of hair, thinking back to Lana's comment on it the day before. Caius sighed. He thought of her still form on the beach. He thought of the necklace that lay on top of her robes, folded so neatly, as though she had put them there herself. He thought of her bowed, dusty frame at the bottom of the elevator shaft, and how she felt when he carried her—light as a feather.

His eyes burned. Caius yanked open a drawer beside the sink and pulled out a pair of scissors.

* * *

He stopped snipping when the length was close to Theron's, when he could feel the cool air on the back of his neck and his whole face was visible and he looked somewhat more presentable—or so he imagined Lana would say. _Clean_ , she might tell him. _All grown up...no longer hiding behind that perfect mess, hmm?_ Yes, he thought, that sounded like her. Caius sighed and began sweeping up the carnage left over by his hastily-decided clipping—it was enough to make a small animal out of, to be sure. Then he pulled the grey medical garb back on and wiped a few droplets of blood from the back of his neck and behind his ears (he had nicked himself three times with the scissors; no doubt Lana would tease him about it later. Or fuss over him. Perhaps both).

Caius returned to the med bay, where 2V was busying himself with a set of holopads containing notes on Lana's condition.

"How is she?" Caius asked the droid.

2V looked up sharply; it was as close to a gesture of surprise as the mechanical being could muster. He handed Caius one of the holopads. "My scans suggest that Master Beniko's rib cage is beginning to heal," he said, "but it will be some time before she can be removed from the kolto tank, my lord. There are so many fractures—hairline and otherwise—that it would be ill-advised to disturb her."

Caius skimmed through the various slides of information on the holopad, humming thoughtfully. He paused at an x-ray image of Lana's rib cage. 2V was right: the bones were riddled with fractures he had missed during his attempts to heal her. As for her punctured lung...he wasn't all that great at picking up organ damage on x-rays, but judging by the size of the black space on her left side, he guessed that the lung still had some inflating to do. No fluid, though. That was something. Caius returned the holopad to the droid and paused in front of the kolto tank. Lana's expression was peaceful, but her skin looked much the same as his: riddled with bruises and lacerations, a grim testament to their adventures over the last day and a half.

Caius swallowed as the bitter, metallic taste of guilt flooded his mouth.

2V finished his scans and looked up at him. "Are you feeling well, Master?" he asked.

"I'm fine," the Sith answered. He closed his eyes; a wave of dizziness and exhaustion swept over him, no doubt a natural reprimand for being on his feet for too long. Caius sighed again. His headache was swiftly increasing—it wasn't quite back to "sharp and knife-like," but it was well on its way. "Did you contact the Alliance while I was out?"

"I attempted to, my lord, but the holoterminal is offline. I would have to divert too much power from the med bay to use it."

Caius grunted. No doubt Theron was having a fit right about now. "Very well. I can use the terminal at home," he told the droid.

2V made an adjustment on the kolto tank, sliding up on an interface that increased the temperature by just a few degrees, before he turned back to the Sith. "Master, forgive me, but perhaps you should rest first?"

"No," Caius muttered as he turned away. He went to a drawer and sifted through a few of the stims inside. He settled on a low-dose syringe and removed the cap. "I need to contact Theron now, before anything else happens. If we lose power on that tank…."

"I will make it my number one priority to keep it running smoothly, my lord."

"Very good." Caius rolled up his left sleeve and injected the stim with a frown. He disliked using any sort of substance—medical-grade or not—but it wouldn't do Lana any good if he collapsed on the way home. "Make sure the doors are manually locked when I leave, and contact me if anything changes," he ordered, tossing the empty syringe into a nearby receptacle and shaking down his sleeve. The droid gave him a crisp bow. Caius shot Lana's unconscious form one last, lingering look before he pulled his cloak from where 2V had left it folded on the bed, then threw it around his shoulders and made his way off the ship.

* * *

Even with the added energy provided to him by the stim, Caius found that the short jaunt home was not an easy one. His limbs ached; his head pounded; the electrical burn along his right arm smarted with each step, as the fabric of his bandage chafed against it. So when he walked through the last pair of trees and saw Tully leaning over her paddock fence in greeting, he breathed a sigh of relief. The tauntaun snorted happily; she stretched her neck toward Caius as he approached.

"Nice to see you too, old girl." The Sith rubbed under her chin and behind her horns. The tauntaun snuffled against his robes, searching for treats, and he clicked his tongue. "Ah, sorry. I'll bring you some berries later." Tully straightened and nipped at his hair instead (with little success, thanks to his recent clipping). He chuckled and gave her one last scratch before heading inside.

The house was silent. It wasn't an eerie silence, exactly—not like it had been aboard his ship, after his crew had gone. No, this was an entirely different sort of quiet. It was a mournful, pensive lack of sound that echoed down the hallway and reverberated off of the walls: a silence of specificity. A silence of _missing_.

A silence that, to Caius, came from within him rather than without.

A silence born of Lana's absence.

Eager to distract himself from the weight of _not here_ and _how long_ and _will she be alright?_ , Caius went straight to the holoterminal and placed a call to Theron. The spy answered almost immediately; his blue form lit up the room with faint crackle, dispelling the awful quiet.

"You two are going to be the death of me," the former SIS agent muttered, staring intently at Caius' image. "Do you know how many times I've tried to contact you?"

Caius leaned against the couch behind him—for support, not appearance, although the pose looked rather nonchalant—and frowned. "Sorry. Our long range comms aren't working."

Theron snorted. "Yeah, I've noticed." He leaned forward. "You, ah, don't look so good," he said, taking in the array of bruises and cuts on the Sith's face. "Care to fill me in?"

* * *

"Damn." Theron kneaded his brow as Caius finished recounting the events of the last twenty-four hours. "I knew Baras' network was far-reaching back in the day, but to come back after all these years? And with the support of the Emperor's Hand…."

Caius rubbed the back of his neck. "Only two of its members," he said, "and they're both dead now, anyway."

"Yeah." The agent shifted his weight. "So, what's our outlook on Lana's condition?"

"2V is 'seventy-eight percent certain' that the kolto will do its job."

Theron grunted. "Uh-huh. And what do you think?"

Caius adjusted his position in an attempt to give his burned arm some relief, to no avail. "Lana is strong," he murmured. "Of that, I have no doubt. But the injuries she sustained...she could really use a medical professional—or better facilities, at least."

"You think we should move her, then?"

"Not yet." Caius' dark gaze flickered against the blue light of the holoterminal. He looked up at Theron's image. "As much as I would like to, 2V's scans suggest that even a brief period out of the kolto would be risky...Lana could easily go into shock, or worse." He sighed. "She needs at least a few days. And my ship isn't functional right now, anyway."

"Well...we're sitting ducks, then." Theron muttered. He tapped something into a console at his left before turning back to Caius. "I assume you plan on going after Baras?"

"I do." Caius' scowl deepened, and he adjusted his weight against the couch; his legs were beginning to tremble from exhaustion. The stim was already wearing off. "But that will have to wait," he said, "until Lana's condition improves. I won't risk leaving her now."

Theron nodded in agreement. "Baras probably won't be going offworld for sometime—not in his condition, at least. I'll put out some feelers and see what we can turn up about his whereabouts while you keep an eye on Lana. One good thing about pirates: they'll tell you pretty much anything for the right amount of money."

"Good idea."

"Oh, and there was one other thing," the spy added with an air of crisp hesitancy. "When I couldn't get ahold of you two, I, uh, may have sent out a rescue team."

Caius tipped his head. "A few extra pairs of hands can't help. Especially since I need to repair my ship."

Theron picked at an invisible thread on his jacket. "Right, well, I tried contacting Jakarro and C2 first, but I couldn't get ahold of them.

Suspicion dawned on the wounded Sith. He settled Theron with a piercing look, his brow dropping low. "Who did you send?"

"Well…."

"It's Koth, isn't it?"

"Uh—"

"Theron."

The spy sighed. "No, it's not Koth. He was my next choice."

"Who, then?" Caius raised an eyebrow. "Arcann?"

Theron nodded. "Senya, too. They were on their way back from an operation on Voss, so I sent them your way. It was the fastest option."

"Mmm. Well, I can certainly use their help. And I trust them."

"Right." The former SIS agent looked relieved; his shoulders relaxed slightly, and he leaned back on one foot. Caius frowned. It would seem that the spy didn't wholly share that sentiment—not where Arcann was concerned, anyway. "Well, I should let you go, Commander. Keep me updated, yeah?"

"Of course."

Theron blinked down at him as he prepared to disconnect the call. "Oh, and congratulations on your engagement. We'll talk later."

The blue glow in the room abruptly disappeared, plunging Caius back into quiet and darkness. He pinched the bridge of his nose; his head pounded with every heartbeat. Slowly, he came around the arm of the couch and lowered himself onto the cushion. Caius leaned forward and rested his head in his hands.

The silence was already deafening.

He wondered when Arcann and Senya would arrive. He wondered when Lana would wake— _if_ she would wake. He wondered if this was what a world without her was like: quiet, and dim, and suffocating. His hands were shaking. Caius reached down and clasped his fingers around the ring, struggling to center himself. _What the hell is wrong with me_?

He remained like that for some time, hunched over with his head in one hand and his ring in the other, exhausted and somewhat disgusted with himself for losing his cool. Lana needed him to be strong. She needed him to be steady. What she _didn't_ need was for him to sit there, feeling sorry for himself and wringing his mind dry with worry. And so he was about to stand and go back to the _Fury_ when he heard the chime of a doorbell.

 _That must be them_. Caius tugged his cloak around his shoulders and rose stiffly from the loveseat. He crossed the living room and paused before a display next to the door, where a security interface showed him an image of Arcann and Senya, who were standing expectantly outside.

He tapped in a passcode to let them through, and the door opened.

* * *

 **Happy New Year, all! I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter...I have to say I'm not entirely pleased with it. Anyway, sorry for the slow updates. Thanks for reading, and let me know what you think?**


	7. Apologies Left to Make

**Sorry, as usual, for the slow updates...I'm working on multiple things at once (probably a bad idea). But anyway, thank you for your patience. I really appreciate you guys, and I hope you like this one! All rights go to Bioware.  
**

* * *

 _She dreams in paint. Images come and go, convoluted, entwined, and fleeting: a summer cycle on a distant planet—green grass and a setting sun and a slight breeze that ruffles his hair when he turns to look down at her; the solid anchor of her mother's hand when she leads her through the streets of Dromund Kaas; rain pattering down upon her hood, pensive and slow; and the dust of Ziost—grey, cold, and still. She kneels to comb the ashes. Between her fingers brushes a single, hidden hope: the smallest plant, hardly more than a sprout, its one leaf opening as it stretches toward a sun that is all but shrouded in dust. She blinks and the image is swept away. Colors swirl and brush like strokes of acrylic upon the worn canvas of her mind. A figure comes into view. His dark hair is unmistakable, his dark eyes even more so. He's standing in a living room, face drawn and tired and dusted with a bit of five o'clock shadow, but written with a striking softness as he gazes down at the tiny bundle in his arms, swaddled in pink. He catches her watching and his mouth pulls into a gentle smile. She tries to say something, but the image turns to dust, and she's falling, suddenly, and she sees the glint of a ring above her as water and rock rise to shatter her frame._

* * *

"You're sure she doesn't bite?"

"Well, not _usually_. Careful, though—she can smell fear." Caius dumped another bucket of water down Tully's back, casting Arcann an amused smirk over his shoulder. The former emperor—clad in a simple white tunic that hid the upper entirety of his mechanical arm—did not appear to share that sentiment. His scarred face remained fixed in a stubborn frown; Tully snorted, sweeping her great tail, and droplets of water pelted the two men.

Caius chuckled and began scrubbing her fur with a soft, soapy brush. "Relax, Arcann," he said. "Here—fill this bucket for me, will you?" He bent to toss him the empty pale, wincing slightly as the movement stretched and pulled at his electrical burn.

Arcann caught the projectile and began filling it up at the nearby water spicket. "You should be resting," he grumbled.

"I've rested enough for now." Caius frowned as he scrubbed along Tully's ribs; the tauntaun stretched back to sniff at his hair, spreading bubbles over his head, and his frown ebbed. "Besides, I've been meaning to give Tully a bath for the last several days...she's beginning to smell. Isn't that right, girl? Yeah, you smelly beast…." He devolved into a few moments of nonsense-talk, scrubbing playfully around his mount's ears and horns.

Arcann snorted; his tense expression, however, slowly began to relax. "Here." He handed Caius the filled bucket.

"Ah, thank you."

Tully brayed as Caius poured the fresh water over her head and back, sweeping away the bubbles, before he moved on to scrub her tail and feet. "Now, hold still," he told her. She reluctantly allowed him to finish washing her up, occasionally tossing her head and flinging more droplets across the grass; Arcann remained a safe distance away. "Here we are...one more rinse." Caius splashed a final bucket of water along her tail and down upon her feet. "Arcann, do you have those blankets over there?"

The former emperor nodded and tossed him the blankets in question: old, grungy things that Caius had used to bathe and dry Tully over the years, but they were still warm and effective. "Mmm. I should get you some new ones," he mumbled as he threw the largest one over her back and began to pat her dry. Tully grunted and nibbled at a few strands of grass at her feet. It took him quite some time to get her dry; by the end of it, he could feel yesterday's exhaustion returning. Sweat dripped from his forehead. "There," he sighed, gathering up the sopping wet blankets. "You don't smell quite as bad now, huh?" Tully snorted. Caius ran a hand through her fur; the wounds from the tonitran attack had healed nicely—she had a few new scars, and a smattering of fur was missing on her thigh, but other than that Tully seemed to be doing quite well.

"I can take those," Arcann offered, reaching for the blankets in Caius' arms. The commander handed them off with a grateful sigh. "We should go back to the ship."

"Agreed." Caius tugged stiffly at his soaked tunic, wincing, and ran a hand through his short hair as he led the way through the woods. He glanced to the side. "How was your time on Voss?"

Arcann hefted the soaked blankets, his mechanical arm whirring softly. "Fine. We helped rebuild the bridge in Voss-Ka."

"And?"

"And...it was nice to do something useful with my hands. To build something rather than tear it down, I mean." He sniffed. "I'm much better at tearing things down, unfortunately."

Caius hummed. "So I've seen." Dappled light fell through the trees and onto the narrow path ahead of him. "You'll get used to it, though. And I'm sure the Voss appreciated your help."

"Yes," Arcann grunted, his gravelly voice echoing softly through the air. "They were...surprisingly accommodating. I've had a better reception from them than anyone else—Zakuulans included. Of course, it helped that Senya was there. She's far more diplomatic than I am."

Caius nodded quietly. He thought back to his time with Senya on Zakuul, when they had been on the hunt for Scorpio. She didn't seem particularly diplomatic back then. He surmised that the difference had to be in the presence of her son—someone she would go to any lengths for, whether it be defying Caius himself or practicing diplomacy (something she was not, in truth, very accustomed to).

They made it the rest of the way to the _Fury_ in silence, Caius focusing on keeping his breath steady as he picked his way through the brush. He would probably need another stim when he got aboard. Or a nap. A very long nap. He walked through the airlock door with a sigh, opting straight for his quarters to change out of his wet clothes. When he emerged, he shuffled over to the med bay. Senya, Arcann, and 2V were waiting for him.

"How is she?" Caius asked. He stepped closer to the kolto tank. Many of Lana's wounds seemed to be healing; the deep purple of her bruises and scrapes had shifted into a lighter, pinkish hue. Her eyes were still closed, her brow set in a relaxed line.

Senya glanced down at the holopad in her hands. "She's improving," the former Knight answered. "According to the kolto tank's readings and 2V's scans, she might only need another day or two in there...her lung is almost completely expanded again."

Caius nodded, resting his palm against the cool blue of the tank. He closed his eyes for a moment. "Good."

"Commander," Senya ventured, her eyes flitting over the tired slump of his shoulders, "Didn't you mention something yesterday about cooking for Lana when she wakes up?"

He blinked. "Yes. I promised her a nice meal the other day, but we haven't really had the chance yet. And...well…."

Arcann shifted behind them. "You don't know how to cook?"

Caius turned around, chuckling, and rummaged around in a drawer until he found more of the healing salve that 2V had applied to his burn wound. "That's...putting it lightly." He sat down on the nearest bed and rolled up his sleeve with a faint hiss.

Senya curled her mouth into a smirk. "Well, this just won't do."

"I was going to ask 2V for help…." Caius tenderly spread some of the salve along his forearm, reveling in its coolness, until the angry purple-red of the branches were hardly visible. He reached for a clean roll of gauze.

"2V?" Senya snorted. "Really?"

"Masters, I am programmed with one of the finest culinary—"

"Nonsense." Senya rolled her eyes. "There's only so much a droid can teach you about cooking, commander."

Caius wrapped the gauze around his arm with a sigh, looping several times before tearing the fabric with his teeth. "What do you suggest, Senya?" He asked.

The older woman peered down at him with a discerning expression. She reached for a nearby roll of fabric tape and tore a piece off for him. "I can teach you a few things," she said. "There's only so much a droid can show you, after all." She handed him another piece. "Cooking requires... _finesse_ , commander. There's nothing mechanical about it."

Arcann snorted. "Here we go…."

"What? I thought you loved my cooking?"

"Well, yes, a mother's cooking _is_ best."

"That's what I thought."

Caius finished taping his bandage and glanced up at the pair in amusement. "Alright, Senya," he agreed, "you can teach me." He rose from the bed with a tired _huff_. "We'll probably need more ingredients first, though. I'll have to make a trip to Raider's Cove."

"Yes," Senya agreed, "I happened to peek in your fridge earlier. It was...well, less than sufficient." She blinked at him. "But you should rest before you go."

"I'll use a stim."

She narrowed her eyes at the worn Sith, pursing her lips. It was an unmistakably _mother_ expression. "Stims are not a substitute for actual rest, Caius." He snorted, waving his hand dismissively, and searched through a nearby drawer. Senya frowned. "How much have you slept since Lana's injury?"

"Well…."

"Mm-hmm."

Caius sighed and plucked an average-dose stim from the drawer. "I'll take one of you with me, then." He began to roll up his sleeve.

Senya clasped her hand around his good forearm—a habit so reminisce of Lana that it gave him pause. He looked over at her, meeting her blue eyes. "Caius," she murmured, " _sleep_." Senya released his arm, but remained close to him, hovering. "Arcann and I will keep an eye on Lana. You have my word."

Caius watched her for a moment. His head was pounding again. "Very well," he sighed. "But I want you to wake me if I'm out for more than a few hours."

"Will do." She threw back the blankets on the furthest bed, urging him to lie down. "Go on." He did so with a heavy sigh. Senya rolled her eyes and glanced over at her son. "And people call _me_ stubborn."

* * *

 _He's chasing her through a forest of shadows. Images flit around them, between the trees, through the clouds, among the drops of rain that fall like so many tears. But he's not looking at them. His eyes are fixed on her, on the flow of her blonde hair as she runs ahead of him. He calls out to her, but she doesn't hear. There's a rush of sound from up ahead: waves and rock and torn earth. He has to reach her before…._

 _Wake up._

 _What was that? No, he has to reach her. He can't stop now. He's gaining...he's so close. He calls her name again; again, she doesn't hear._

 _Wake up._

 _Why can't she hear him? He stretches out his hand; it brushes the back of her tunic, but still, she runs. He can see the end ahead. He reaches for her again, but she escapes him. The ground falls away. She runs right into the sudden abyss, tumbling, spinning, falling, down into the chaos below. He falls with her._

 _Wake up._

 _The water beneath them rises and turns to glass. They collide; it shatters into a thousand stars, a thousand lives, a thousand deaths._

* * *

"Gah!" Caius shot upright, chest heaving, as the remnants of his dream fell around him. "Where—what—"

"Whoa, whoa," Senya, hovering over him, rested a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, commander. You were dreaming."

"Lana…."

"She's fine. See?" Senya gestured to the kolto tank across the room, where Lana was still peacefully suspended. Caius pinched the bridge of his nose, stifling the incessant pounding in his head. Senya watched him carefully. "I've been trying to wake you for the last several minutes…you were thrashing in your sleep."

"Sorry."

"Don't be." She peered down at him. "You were having a nightmare?"

Caius sighed and shifted his legs over the edge of the bed, placing his feet on the floor to anchor himself. "Yes." He glanced around. "Where's Arcann?"

Senya straightened. "He's in engineering, working on some repairs." She paused for a moment. "You should take him with you when you go to Raider's Cove. I'll stay here and keep watch."

"Thank you, Senya."

"Of course."

* * *

"Think we can find everything on the list?" Arcann peered over at the scrap of paper in Caius' hand, where Senya had scribbled down a number of ingredients for them to pick up.

Caius grunted and pulled his hood further over his head. "Most likely," he confirmed, rounding the corner of the shabby, dock-like alleyway. "The market here has a surprisingly large selection." He glanced to the side, where Arcann's scarred visage was half-hidden beneath his hood, as well. "Not that I know what most of these things are, of course…."

"Well, that's why she drew us some pictures for reference." He pointed to a sketch of a large, speckled slab of something that vaguely resembled meat. Tonitran, perhaps?

"Right. That was thoughtful of her."

"And smart."

"Mm-hmm." Caius folded the scrap of paper and slipped it into the pocket of his robes.

Arcann glanced over at him as they made their way along a wide pathway, tall, misshapen buildings rising from the docks around them. "So...you and Lana are engaged, now? I hear there were bets on how long it would take you to man up and ask her."

Caius sniffed, a soft chuckle emanating from his chest. "I'm not surprised," he said. "I do wonder who won the bet, though."

"Koth, I think." Arcann's pale blue eyes scanned the area ahead. The pirate town was relatively quiet today...he hoped that didn't spell trouble for the two of them. "But anyway, I'm...happy for you two. It's nice to know that my family didn't ruin everyone's hopes and dreams—not completely, at least."

The commander snorted. "No, indeed. Even in times of war and strife...well...not everything can be destroyed through brute force."

They rounded another corner; to their left, murky waves lapped solemnly against the walkway's foundations. Arcann glanced up at the sky. "Right. 'The power of love' and all that."

"Ha," Caius chortled, kicking a stray chunk of something metallic into the water. "It sounds pretty ridiculous, doesn't it?"

Arcann glanced over at him. "It does," he agreed. "But at the same time, I think that your connection with Lana is something to be admired—it's quite rare." A sigh, fleeting and unbidden, escaped his lips. "It may sound strange, but I sensed your bond before I ever joined your cause. When you two fought against me...your connection was—and still is—potent. It goes beyond the obvious, I think."

"What do you mean?"

"Well," Arcann tugged at the shoulder of his robe, where the fabric was snagging on a particularly sharp outcropping in the curve of his robotic arm, "I just wonder if you two were born with your connection. You may not have met until you were adults, but…."

Caius hummed thoughtfully as they arrived at the open market area, where Lana had taken him only a few days before. _I can't believe it's only been a few days…it seems like so much has happened since then._ He approached a vendor who had several types of meat for sale and pulled Senya's list out. "I thought you didn't believe in destiny," Caius said to Arcann.

The former emperor snorted. "I don't." He pointed to a cut of meat that matched one of Senya's drawings. "That one, I think…. Anyway, what I mean is that I've experienced a connection similar to yours. With my brother. It may sound strange, and of course it was different in some ways, but...well, I'm not sure how to explain it, exactly."

"Hmm." Caius paid the stall vendor for their meat, and they moved on to the next one. Senya was particular about a certain kind of egg they needed; he rubbed his chin in thought as he examined their options. "Well, you were twins, right? So a connection between you two would make sense." He frowned at the scrap of paper. "I think I know what you mean, though, in some way…if Lana and I had met when we were younger—as children, even...I have a feeling that we would still be together today."

Arcann plucked an egg from the stall's selection, his mechanical hand cradling the delicate object with apparent ease. "You're probably right," he agreed. "I suppose what I'm trying to say...is that you two have a unique and unprecedented bond through the Force. It goes beyond your relationship as lovers, just as my connection with Thexan went beyond our relationship as twin brothers." He shifted, placing the egg into a padded carton along with several others. "It's rare, and it's powerful."

"Mmm." Caius ran a hand through his hair and picked up a speckled egg, examining it for a moment, before he set it back down. He paid the vendor as Arcann finished packing his carton, then ambled over to a stall with a large selection of spices. _I need to pick up some new blankets for Tully while I'm here_ , Caius reminded himself. He glanced down the row of makeshift shops; there looked to be a general goods vendor just down the way.

Arcann cast a piercing gaze in Caius' direction. "Don't take your connection for granted, commander," he murmured. "Such a loss...is more devastating than you can imagine." He set his face toward the sun, where it lingered reluctantly behind the shroud of an impending storm. "That's all I wanted to say."

* * *

"This should only take a moment." Caius led the way through the noise and bustle and chaos that was ever-present inside the Blaster's Path, hoping that his words would prove true. Theron had finally managed to contact Jakarro and C2-D4 once again; with any luck, the strange pair would have some— _any_ —information regarding Baras' whereabouts.

Arcann followed silently behind the commander, little more than a cloaked shadow amongst the noise of rowdy patrons. He glanced up as they made their way down a narrow hallway; the back room was just ahead. "This place is popular. Are the drinks as good as the smell?"

Caius cast him an amused glance over his shoulder. "I've heard their Corellian rum is top-notch."

"Hmm."

They made it to the back room, where Jakarro's hulking form was looming over the bar at the far side of the area. The wookie turned and huffed a greeting as Caius sat down beside him.

"Ah, finally," C2 chimed. "We've been waiting for almost an hour." Jakarro growled something in response to the droid's clipped tone. "Easy for you to say!" C2 snapped. "You got to spend the extra time drinking…."

Caius waved the bartender over as Arcann seated himself. "My apologies," he grunted. "We had a few errands to run."

"I'll have your Corellian ale," Arcann said to the bartender; Caius shook his head when the woman looked to him in question. She reached under the counter and pulled out a tall, thin glass, then removed a bottle from the shelf behind her and filled the mug with a painfully bored expression. Sighing, she placed it before Arcann and sauntered away, where some other patrons were impatiently waiting.

C2's green eyes flickered in the dim lighting. "So, this must be Ar—" Jakarro snarled loudly, cutting him off. "—oh, right. Sorry."

Caius tapped his fingers against the counter. "I"m sorry to be abrupt," he murmured, "but were you able to find any leads?" he asked.

Jakarro took a long swig of his drink, the color of which Caius couldn't see, as it was contained in a metallic-looking mug. The wookie growled softly before wiping his mouth. C2 blinked. "What Jakarro says is true, I'm afraid. We weren't able to find much, considering the lack of evidence and roundabout trails—"

"Just tell us what you _did_ find," Arcann rumbled. He sipped his ale with a thoughtful hum. "Not bad…."

C2 sighed (a strange, scraping sound, coming from the mechanical being). "We believe he may have hidden his ship in one of the Nova Blades' hangars. We don't know which one, though."

"The Nova Blades still have a presence here?" Caius asked.

Jakarro growled in affirmation. "We decided not to _completely_ eradicate them. They're so small now, anyway, that they don't have much influence as far as pirate business goes," C2 said.

Arcann took another drink, longer this time, before setting his glass down with a sigh. "Do you know where all of their hangars are?"

"Yes. They have three, all relatively close to Raider's Cove."

"Why don't we go after each one, then?" Caius asked. "If they're as small as you say."

C2 waited for Jakarro to take a drink before he answered. "Because I happen to know that hitting one would immediately throw the other two into lockdown."

"What about hitting all three at once?"

"Hmm. That might work," C2 agreed, " _if_ you can spare the manpower. Something tells me you guys are a bit stretched thin right now." His mechanical gaze zoomed in on the bandages peeking out from the edge of Caius' sleeve, and the tapestry of bruises across his scarred cheekbones.

Caius sighed. "Maybe we should wait another few days. At least until…." he trailed off for a moment, recalling Lana's vulnerable state. No way was he going to leave her unguarded at a time like this. If Baras set another trap….

"That seems wise," C2 agreed, breaking him from his thoughts. "We can always use the time to gather more information. If this guy is as bad off as Theron said, then I'm sure he's not going anywhere anytime soon. Jakarro and I can run more in-depth scans on the separate hangars in the meantime."

"Very well."

Jakarro growled in agreement. Arcann took one last pull of his ale, sighing.

"Oi," a voice drawled from Arcann's other side, where a pair of thuggish patrons came swaggering up to the group. "Watcha guys talkin' bout, huh?" The first patron—a tall, lanky Zabrak with a set of intricate tattoos and pungent yellow eyes—addressed them with a heavily-intoxicated slur. "You've got a shecretive look about ya, robes 'n all."

Arcann turned slightly, sizing up the intruders. "You should mind your own business," he muttered.

"Eh? Wazzat? Couldn't hear you behinds yer hood." The second patron, much shorter than the first but marked with the same yellow eyes and similar tattoos, attempted to lean nonchalantly against the counter, but his arm fell short, and he slumped awkwardly against a barstool instead. "Ain't that right, bro?" He hiccuped as he glanced at his taller counterpart.

Caius rose from the counter, nodding to Arcann, and the two prepared to leave.

"Eh, where you goin'?" The first patron asked. "We's just about to have shome fun! Yer friend there...he looksh familiar." The two brothers gestured to Arcann as they moved sloppily to bar Caius' way.

He paused. "You're mistaken. I would rather not make a scene, gentlemen. Step aside."

The taller brother reached for a glass on the table beside him. Before his fingers closed, however, his wrist was yanked violently to the side, bending and twisting at an unnatural angle. He shouted in pain; spittle flew from his lips. The second brother snarled and swung hard at the Sith, but Caius grabbed his fist easily, leveling him with a cold gaze. " _Step aside_ ," he growled again. Slowly, the Zabrak relented, pulling his hand back and rushing to his brother's aid.

Caius stepped past the pair with a sigh as Arcann came up beside him. It wasn't until they made their way out of the bar and down the first stretch of dock that he spoke again. "You didn't need to break his wrist," he said to Arcann.

The former emperor tugged at his hood. "I was teaching him a lesson."

"A lesson he won't remember. He was drunk, after all."

"Whatever. I blame it on the ale—which was quite good, by the way."

"Uh-huh."

A faint crackle sounded over the comm, followed by Senya's voice. " _Commander?_ "

Caius pressed a finger to his ear. "I read you."

" _Good_ ," she said. " _You may want to return as soon as possible_."

Immediately, a rush of frightening images passed through his mind's eye. They hadn't been gone that long, had they? Had something happened to Lana? "What's happened?" He paused in the middle of the walkway; they were nearly back to Arcann's shuttle.

Senya's breathy chuckle echoed in his ear before she replied. " _Don't worry—it's good news, Caius. It seems that Lana's condition has improved enough that we can take her out of the kolto._ "

"Already?" Relief swelled within him, cresting so soon after the shadow of his fear that it took him a moment to catch his breath. He glanced at Arcann, who was listening in, and with a nod the two set off at a clip.

" _Yes,_ " Senya paused for a moment; there was a cacophony of metallic sounds and what seemed like a _hiss_ of released air on her end. " _2V expected it to be at least another day, but—_ " another pause and a faint grunt, " _Ah, there we go...but it looks like she improved exponentially over the course of today. We don't know w—hey, careful with her. Easy...there."_

Caius and Arcann reached their shuttle and paused as they waited for the ramp to extend. "You just took her out?" Caius asked, anxiously scuffing his boot against the dock. "Is she okay? Is she—"

Senya grunted over the comm. " _She's fine, commander. You're such a worry wart...anyway, 2V and I will take care of her until you get here. She'll likely be unconscious for quite some time—she still has healing to do—but this is an important step forward._ "

They ascended the ramp; Arcann seated himself in the pilot's chair and immediately started the engines, flipping several switches and pushing forward on a lever before him. Caius remained standing in the cramped cabin. "Alright, Senya. Thank you...we'll be there soon."

* * *

Caius was sitting in the dimly-lit med bay, hunched in a chair beside Lana's bed. The sun had long since set and disappeared below the horizon; Arcann and Senya had retired some hours earlier (Senya in the _Fury_ 's crew quarters and Arcann at the house, as they decided it was best to have at least one person there throughout the night.) 2V was busying himself about the ship, trying—somewhat unsuccessfully—to clean without making too much noise.

There was a strand of hair over Lana's eyes; Caius reached out and gently brushed it behind her ear. 2V and Senya had put her in one of those grey medical tunics. Most of her skin was covered, but he could see where the worst of the bruising began at her collarbones—still present, but not as prominent as before. Caius sighed. This was his fault, all of it...if only he had killed Baras all those years ago. If only he had been quick enough to realize that the old Sith was behind the slaver organization. If only he had been decisive and strong enough to kill the lot of them on that cliff, before Lana fell...if only, if only, if only. He closed his eyes. And here she thought he was so wise, so _right_.

No. He was only Caius.

Still...he reached for her hand with his own, placing his warm skin over the coolness of hers. She was improving. She would be okay. She would live. And he knew that she would be angry with him for having such thoughts—for dwelling on the _if only's_ —were she awake right now. Caius leaned forward until his head was resting on the mattress beside her arm. It smelled of kolto and clean sheets and pressed fabric. He wondered what she was dreaming about— _if_ she was dreaming. He hoped they weren't carbonite dreams: visions of cold, dead, far-off things. He hoped they were happy dreams, dreams of new things and hopes realized and small, captured joys. Yes. He hoped so….

* * *

" _There you are."_

 _He's standing in the middle of a great, unfathomable_ nothing _, just black and dark and sterile. But she's right in front of him—golden eyes open and astute—and so it is not nothing, but suddenly, everything. Her hand is in his; he squeezes her fingers. "Is this a dream?" he asks._

 _She blinks, looks around at the vacuum, the void. "I'm...not sure." Her eyes drift back to him, lingering for a long while. Yes...he must be dreaming. "Your eyes," she whispers, stepping closer, "they look sad." A hand ghosts up to rest against his cheek. It feels real, warm...such a vivid dream. "What's troubling you?"_

 _He half expects her hand to splinter, to turn to glass or melt away, but it remains. "Your injuries...everything that happened...it was my fault," he says, his words a vague echo of her own from not so long ago. He's afraid to close his eyes. If he does, will she disappear?_

 _A smile, small and delicate, plays at her lips. "Oh, I see. You threw me over the cliff, then."_

" _Well, no…."_

" _Mmm." She glances down at her feet. Slowly, a ring of color blooms: grass and small, purple flowers and a breeze that lifts her hair. The color spreads. With it, a sky stretches above them, blue and cloudless. Sunlight falls around their shoulders. Her hair is almost white beneath its rays. She looks back up to him._

 _He brushes a hand down her arm. "Will you come back soon?" It's such an innocent question, one that he vaguely remembers asking his parents so many years ago, back when he was small and naive and free on a world made of snow._

 _She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "Miss me already, do you?"_

" _Desperately."_

 _Her smile widens. Her robes are white—dazzlingly so. She sighs and leans into him, pressing an ear to his chest. Strange...such a realistic heartbeat. So steady. "You're hopeless."_

" _Maybe." he hums pleasantly._

" _Well," she chuckles into the fabric of his tunic—black and crisp and well-tailored. "I'll see what I can do." She looks up at him, brushes a hand across his horizontal scar. "Don't be sad, my love," she whispers._

 _Their world falls away before he can reply._

* * *

"You're doing it wrong."

"What do you mean? You told me to whisk, right?" Caius cast Senya an incredulous look over his shoulder.

Senya rolled her eyes. "Yes, _whisk_. You're not whisking—you're stirring. Here." She snatched the bowl of egg yolks and the fork from his hands, then began to deftly whisk the eggs together. "You see, it's all in the wrist…."

"Oh." Caius surveyed the devastation of eggshells and spices and discarded utensils that peppered the kitchen counter, frowning. Remnants of last night's strange dream still lingered, tugging at his consciousness, and he found himself zoning out for the third time that morning.

"Hey!" Senya grabbed a nearby spoon and whacked him over the head with it. "Pay attention."

Caius winced, ducking. "Ow!" he rubbed his scalp and gave her a hurt look.

She deflected the powers of his puppy dog expression with a derisive snort. "Grab that jar of spice there, will you? And the spoon—not that one—nope— _that_ one. Remember what happened last time? You need to measure the right amount."

Caius grabbed the small measuring spoon she was referring to and opened the spice's cap. "I thought you said there wasn't anything mechanical about cooking. 'Measuring' sounds rather mechanical to me," he grunted, carefully scooping the spice under Senya's critical eye. "I'm pretty sure 2V could've shown me this…."

"Don't start," Senya growled, holding out the bowl until Caius added the measured amount of spice. "Cooking requires finesse, but it's also a discipline...did you wash your hands this time? Well? Go do it."

"Ugh," Caius rolled his eyes. " _Discipline_ , indeed. You've hit me so many times that my headache is starting to return with a vengeance." Senya held up the spoon in warning, and he ran for the safety of the sink before she could strike. "Who knew you were so intense in the kitchen. Is this how you rose through the Knights' ranks? You just beat people over the head with spoons?"

Senya chortled as she finished whisking the eggs together, then set the bowl aside for a moment. She rummaged around in one of the cupboards until she found a suitable frying pan. "Never underestimate the power of a wooden spoon." She turned the stove up. "Remember that when you have kids, commander."

Caius grunted and pulled out a cutting board. "Should I cut up the vegetables?"

"Yes, please. And hand me the meat you guys brought me, will you? Ah, ah—hands! Wash them before _and_ after."

Caius sighed and followed her directions. "Germaphobe…."

"I don't want to hear it."

Chuckling softly, he finished drying his hands and gave her the meat, which she promptly began to sear. Caius washed a second time and turned back to the cutting board. After a moment, Arcann's voice came in through his earpiece. " _How's it going?_ " he asked. The former emperor was currently back at the _Fury_ , working on repairs and keeping watch over Lana.

Caius sliced deftly into the green, celery-like vegetable before him. It was about the only thing he knew how to do in the kitchen. That, and brew coffee—the quality of which was always questionable. "Well, she hasn't killed me yet, if that's what you mean." He glanced suspiciously over his shoulder. "She's using a knife right now though, so I'm thinking my time is about up."

Arcann's gravelly chuckle echoed over the comm. " _Good luck._ "

"Mmm. How are things over there?"

" _I managed to finish what you started on the holocommunicator—it's working again. And it's a good thing we picked up that part yesterday...should be able to get the engines back online once we install it_."

Caius finished one vegetable and started on the next. "Excellent. Thank you."

" _Mm-hmm."_

"You, uh...wanna switch? I can work on the engines, you know, if you want to give your mother a hand…."

Arcann snorted. " _Not a chance_."

Senya turned around at that, her piercing blue eyes fixed on the back of Caius' head. "Nice try, commander. Are those vegetables done yet?"

He winced. "Not yet."

"Well, hurry it up."

"Oh, for pity's sake…."

"What was that?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Eventually, though Caius wasn't sure if it was due to his gradual decrease in mistakes or Senya's just-as-gradual decline in severity, the two settled into a relatively comfortable routine. Senya kept him occupied with various tasks (slice this up; measure that; pour that thing in the other thing; wipe that sullen expression off your face; and so on), and Caius obliged with little resistance, finding a sense of relief in having something useful to do with his hands.

Such was their focus that Caius realized it had been several hours, and they had said very little to each other apart from statements pertaining to the various dishes they made (there would be leftovers for _weeks_ , Caius was sure).

He wiped his brow with the sleeve of his shirt and glanced over at Senya, who was taste-testing a sauce on the stove. "Senya," he ventured, "if you're comfortable talking about it...I was wondering if you could tell me more about Thexan."

Senya's hand paused in mid air; the spoon she was carrying wavered, just for a moment, and then she brought it to her lips and tentatively sampled the ruby-colored sauce. "I don't mind," she answered. "What would you like to know?"

Caius leaned back against the counter, taking a moment to rest. "Well, I'm not sure. Arcann mentioned him the other day, and I realized that I know very little about Thexan, apart from the fact that the two of them shared a powerful bond." He examined his burned arm; the bandages had been removed for the day, leaving the angry, lightning-patterned wound stark and open to the air.

"Hmm." Senya added a bit of spice to the sauce and quietly stirred for a moment. "As you know, I didn't have much contact with my children once they grew older. But I can tell you what I know from their childhood." She sighed and lowered the temperature on the stove. "Thexan was always the kindest of the three. He was...temperate, and thoughtful, and sweet." Senya tipped her head back for a moment; her eyes were closed, but Caius could see the lines of remembered joy at the corners of her eyelids. "We had this tiny plant in the window of our home in Zakuul. Pathetic little thing...no matter how diligently I looked after it, it always had this ugly, limp appearance, like it was going to wither away at a moment's notice." She looked back down to the stove, the slope of her shoulders relaxed and low. "I decided to give up on the thing one day. Really, it was just an eyesore, you know...and I was gone quite often on Knight business anyway. But as I was carrying it outside, Thexan stopped me." Senya chuckled at the memory. "He was so small then...a skinny little boy with wide blue eyes and a face that was always, _always_ dirty, no matter how many times I told him to wash up. Anyway...he looked up at me and he reached for that plant, and he said, 'Mom, please don't throw it away! We're the only ones keeping it alive. We have to take care of it, even if it's ugly."

Caius hummed in amusement. "So, did you?"

"I told him to take care of it from that day forward," Senya answered. She turned away from the stove and crossed her arms over her chest. "So he put it back in the window, and every day, he watered it and cared for it, and plucked off the dead leaves. And you know what?" She smiled. "That ugly thing actually _grew_. It became this beautiful tree...we planted it in our garden out back when it got big enough to survive on its own." She sighed. "Thexan was like that with everything. He was always there to calm Arcann down, to help him see the better side of things—of _himself_ , even."

"He sounds like a good kid," Caius said.

Senya looked down at her feet. She plucked a stray thread from her sleeve, frowning. "He was. You know," she murmured, "you remind me of him. I think you two would have gotten along quite well."

He glanced to the side, where a window gave him a view through the trees and out across the sand, where the ocean stretched calm and gleaming beneath the sun. "I'm sorry he's gone," he said.

"Me too." There was a long pause; Senya's eyes trailed over his burn wound, a quiet sadness dulling the edge of their sharp, striking blue hue. "You should go check in on Lana," she said after some time.

Caius blinked away his thoughts. "You sure?"

"Of course. Besides," Senya turned back to the stove, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips, "when she wakes up, you'll be the first thing she wants to see."

Caius' cheeks turned slightly pink at that; swallowing, he nodded gratefully, then headed for the door.

* * *

After sending Arcann off to help his mother, Caius stopped in to check on Lana. She was still fast asleep; 2V assured him that she was continuing to improve—she would likely wake within another day. Thus satisfied, the Sith headed into the engine room and tinkered around for several hours. Arcann had begun the process of installing the part they needed; Caius picked up where he left off. It was a marginally simple task, as far as mechanical tasks went, and so he found himself happily grinding away as he adjusted wires and replaced bolts and fitted things together, once again pleased with the opportunity to keep busy.

He was nearly finished installing the part when 2V came clopping around the corner to the engineering room. "My lord," the droid said, "forgive the intrusion, but I don't believe you've eaten anything since you arrived on ship."

Caius lifted his head at the noise—too quickly, as he was currently on his back in a tight space, and his forehead collided painfully with a bar above him. "Agh," he grunted, covering his eyes with his palm before slowly inching out of the crawl space. He paused for a moment as the pain ebbed. "I'm fine, 2V. It hasn't been that long."

"I'm afraid it's been nearly five hours, master."

"What? Really?"

"Yes," the droid chimed. "I've taken the liberty of bringing you a nutrition bar, my lord, as I assumed that you would rather not eat a large meal at your workspace."

Caius pulled himself off of the floor, tenderly wiping away the black mark left over on his forehead, and took the droid's offering. "Thank you," he said, pulling open the packaging. He took a bite—he couldn't fathom the amount of these things he'd eaten over the years—and chewed thoughtfully. So much for all that food he and Senya had made earlier. Ah, well...strangely enough, he wasn't very hungry. The bar would do just fine for now. "How's Lana?"

2V's scarlet head lamps blinked over at him. "She's well, my lord," he answered. "My scans are constantly revealing more improvements in her health."

"Good." Caius nodded. He stretched his arms back (he had been in that crawl space for some time, obviously, as his muscles felt cramped and stiff). "I'll go check in on her."

* * *

He was sitting beside her again, watching as she took each breath, her chest gently rising and falling, rising and falling. She looked so peaceful...if it weren't for the bruises that stubbornly remained on her skin, it would be difficult to tell that she was recovering from severe injuries. Caius reached for Lana's hand and gently stroked his thumb along her fingers. He thought back to all of the times he had been wounded, only to wake up and find her hovering over him, golden eyes stoically and resolutely keeping watch as he recovered. It was an awful habit of his, they often joked—getting into near-death situations. It worried her. But now, perhaps for the first real time, they had swapped places. It was his turn to hover, to worry. It was truly awful...how did she do it so often? And for so long? He considered those five years when he had been frozen in carbonite. She had been searching for him the whole time.

 _Five years…._ His eyes lingered on her face. _For me, it was only a nightmare. But for you...those years...every one of them was real. And you never gave up on me. Not once_. Caius bowed his head, cupping his face in one hand. How selfish of him...how often had he overlooked the things she went through for his sake? "I'm sorry," he whispered.

* * *

Lana opened her eyes, and he was the first thing she saw. Head bowed and shadowed, shoulders slumped forward, the arc of his back curled toward her, like an umbrella folded in and tucked away. His fingers wrapped in hers. And his words, that statement, stark and vulnerable and sad.

Lana blinked slowly. Carefully, and with much effort, she stretched out her free hand and reached through to him, fingers brushing under his chin to lift up his head. "Hey," she whispered, her voice a bit ragged from lack of use. "Your eyes...are still sad."

Caius exhaled, his mouth pulling into a gentle smile, and he took her outstretched hand in his own, his eyes gratefully locked on her golden ones. "So it wasn't a dream, then?"

Lana drew a tongue across her lips in an attempt to dispel some of the dryness. "A shared one, perhaps." She turned, her blonde locks splaying across the pillow. "You cut your hair." Her gaze rested softly on his face, taking in the full extent of his visage, as it was no longer hidden behind a mess of ebony.

"Ah, yeah.…" Caius ran a hand through his shortened hairstyle, peeking up at her.

Lana smiled. "So there _was_ a face hiding behind that mess." Her eyes glinted playfully. "And a handsome one, at that."

Caius chuckled, his chest rumbling with the sound, and he pressed a kiss to her hand. "I'm glad you approve," he said.

"I do." She blinked as he turned his head to the side. "I'm afraid it's a bit uneven in the back, though, love. I'll fix it for you later."

He smiled. "Thank you." Lana shifted, wincing slightly, and he leaned closer. "Are you uncomfortable? Do you need more pillows, or maybe some pain relievers?"

Lana's soft laugh was fairly weak, but honest just the same. "I'm alright, dear. This tunic is a bit scratchy, is all."

"Oh." Caius glanced across the room, where Lana's washed clothes were still folded neatly atop a bedside table. "I can help you change into yours, if you'd prefer."

Lana moved again, testing her muscles and the condition of her rib cage, before nodding slightly to him. "Yes, that would be nice. Thank you."

Caius retrieved her garments and—after closing the med bay door, as he couldn't be sure when Senya or Arcann might decide to visit—he slowly helped her sit up in bed. Lana paused for a moment, trembling, as she rested a hand against her brow.

"Dizzy?" Caius asked.

"Mm-hmm." She was quiet for a few seconds as the room righted itself. "Okay. I'm alright." Caius stood in front of her; she lifted her arms, hissing softly as the movement pulled at her ribs, and he tenderly pulled the grey tunic over her head. She was astutely aware of his gaze as it lingered on her bare skin; his brow was low, his mouth pulled into a frown as he took in the tapestry of lacerations, fresh scars, and bruises. His eyes remained bright with sadness as he quietly unfolded her tunic for her and held it up so that she could put her arms through. Her hands shook as she tugged it the rest of the way over her thin form. When they finished with that, Caius helped her into her own pair of pants—much softer than the stiff, itchy medical ones—and he pulled a pair of warm socks over her feet.

He sat down on the bed beside her; she turned to look up at him. "You okay?" Caius asked.

"I am. Thank you," she whispered. Her eyes lingered on the curve of his neck for a moment before she glanced down at her socks. "Ah, wait…." she stretched out her hand, scooping the ring and necklace from the pillow beside her, and handed it to him. "Will you…?"

"Of course." Caius reached around her neck to fasten the clasp; his hand trailed down to the ring, and he held it between his fingers for a second. "Better?" His eyes flicked to hers.

"Much." They sat like that for a moment, eyes locked, only a span of a breadth apart, and then Caius rested his hand against her cheek. Lana leaned into his touch; he sighed, wanting to say something but not quite sure _what_ , exactly, and so instead he wrapped his other arm around her and carefully pulled her close. Caius brought his head down to rest against hers; she felt his breath as it stirred a few hairs atop her head. Lana's hands splayed across the small of his back, one of them sliding up to grasp his shoulders. "Caius," she whispered, "we'll always come back, won't we? To each other."

He closed his eyes. There was a tightness in his throat—born of sorrow or fear or relief and maybe joy, he wasn't exactly sure. Perhaps all of them. He kissed the top of her head; gently, pensively. "Yes," he breathed. "Always, Lana. Always."

She shifted to look up at him—golden eyes close and real and awake. Caius brushed a strand of hair from her face, and then he kissed her, softly, as he always did, the taste of his sadness and joy mingling with hers. He smiled as they pulled away. "Come on," he said.

"Wh—" Lana's question was breathlessly cut off as Caius scooped her into his arms. He carefully cradled her shoulders, avoiding putting pressure on her damaged ribs, and the door of the med bay opened. He smirked down at her as he swept across the main room and into his quarters.

"This is purely selfish of me, I'm afraid," Caius said as he pulled the sheets back with one hand.

Lana held tightly to his forearm—his burned one, although he kept his face resolutely neutral—and allowed him to quietly lay her in bed. He adjusted the pillow for her with a faint grin. Lana blinked up at him. "How so?" she asked.

Caius chuckled to himself. He kicked his boots off, sighing, and waved a hand to close the bedroom door. It hissed shut with peaceful finality. "Mmm," he hummed as he tugged off his outer robe and stretched out on his side, facing her, "I can't fit next to you in those beds."

She laughed faintly at that. "Ah, I see." Lana turned her head so that she could see him properly. "Well, I'm certainly not complaining." He inched closer to her, and she pressed forward, curling into his chest. His heartbeat was steady—like it always was. Dependable. Strong. _Near_. "Caius," Lana ventured as her thoughts turned to her dream-sleep, "about that dream we shared…."

"Hmm?"

"I know that you blame yourself for what happened to me—and I wish you would stop that, by the way. But...there's something else, isn't there?" She paused to carefully inhale. Her chest ached. "Tell me what's been troubling you."

Caius held his breath for a few long, lingering seconds. He trailed a hand down Lana's arm. She could sense the regret in him, the sting of an apology long unspoken and, even longer, unrealized. "Five years," he simply said, "is a long time."

Lana was a bit surprised at the unbidden surge of emotion that spread through her veins. She hadn't forgotten those five years. She was told that Caius had been killed, that there was no way he could have survived the destruction of Marr's ship. She was told to mourn. To move on. To forget. But she knew, she _knew_ , that he was still alive. She would have felt his passing. She was sure of it. And so she searched for Caius, endlessly and tenaciously, with little more than hope and an unbroken connection to go on. He was the only one who could save them from the darkness. He was the only one who could save _her_.

Five years...five years in a living nightmare. Five years in a galaxy without him. Five years of running and fighting and pressing on and on and on because if she stopped, even for a second, Lana was afraid that she would never move again. He would disappear forever. And so would she.

As the memory of those years brought forth a present ache, burning and desperate, in her chest and her hands and her bones, Lana knotted her fingers in Caius' tunic, clinging to him. Her pragmatism failed her in that moment; against the weight of those years, it simply fell short.

"I'm sorry, Lana," Caius said. He was trembling slightly. "Not because I could have changed it. Not because _anyone_ could have…but I'm sorry anyway. I'm sorry you had to live that. And I'm sorry...that it took you getting injured for me to realize it."

She could blame it on her physical state, or the fact that she was still tired, regardless of how much sleep she'd gotten over the last several days. She could blame it on the various medications or the kolto or the simple realization that Caius was here, with her, and so she was safe. In the end, it didn't matter—not really. But Lana allowed the tears to fall. They were slow, silent things, tiny reflections of a thousand fractured memories. They trailed down her cheeks and soaked into Caius' tunic. They spilled over her fingers, knotted in his presence, and traced mournful paths down the length of her necklace, where they fell through the center of her ring. And Caius remained, holding her, enclosing her in his steady presence, without which she wondered if she would have simply withered away like an autumn leaf.

* * *

It was a long time before either of them spoke. Long enough for the tears to dry, at least, and for Lana to wonder if Caius had fallen asleep. She breathed in his scent: pine and metal and windswept sands. Her eyes felt heavy; they were red-rimmed, puffy from the release of their quiet burdens. "You came back," she whispered. He shifted against her, opening his eyes. "Five years... _is_ a long time. When you're waiting for someone. But you came back, like you always do."

Caius' chest rumbled softly against her ear when he spoke. "Only because you saved me. Like you always do." He smiled and brushed his hand across her cheek.

"Mmm." Lana hummed in amusement. "We save each other, I think."

"Yes," he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "We do, don't we?"

* * *

It was several hours before 2V came marching into the med bay to find it empty. The droid ran an immediate scan of the ship and, upon detecting Caius and Lana's heat signatures across the ship, he went to his master's door and peeked inside. They were sleeping soundly, holding one another as the sky holds the stars.

It was the first time 2V ever opted not to disturb his master. Instead, he quietly shut the door, turned down the ship's internal lighting, and went back to his nightly cleaning.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading! I hope you guys liked this chapter (I'm glad Lana's awake now, as I rather enjoy exploring her character. All the feels, though). Anyway, thanks again for being patient with me on the slow updates. Let me know what you think?**


	8. The Subject

**Hi all! Here's another chapter (as always, I'm sorry that I'm literally the worst about getting this thing updated in a timely fashion. I'm so grateful that you guys are patient with me, though). Since it's been awhile since we've had some material from Lana's perspective, I wrote (almost) this entire chapter from her eyes. I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"Try to stay still, dear."

"Or it'll be off with my head?"

"Something like that." Lana's amusement was faint but present as she stood behind Caius, a pair of scissors in hand. She leaned forward, sweeping a curtain of blonde hair behind her ear, and scrunched her brow in concentration as she attempted to salvage the uneven remnants of her fiancé's new doo.

 _Snip_.

A sliver of black hair drifted to the floor.

"I see you tried to do the job yourself earlier," she hummed, her fingers lightly brushing over a scab at the base of his skull. Lana thought she might've imagined his shiver, so fleeting was his response to her touch.

"Ah," he sighed, "I'm afraid my skin is too thick. Should've used a lightsaber."

"Well, you're in luck. I have one right here." She patted the weapon on her side.

Caius chortled. "Excellent. Much more dignified than a suicide attempt, anyway." His dark gaze met hers through the mirror, a slow grin tugging at his lips. "Promise you'll write me a touching eulogy?"

 _Snip_.

"Of course." Lana brushed a few clippings away as she surveyed her work. "I'll be sure to include a long list of your grandiose accomplishments—right next to an exact count of how many times I've saved your ass over the years."

"Ha," Caius snorted (not without mirth), "I suppose that's fair. What is it, now? Several hundred?"

 _Snip_.

"At least." She pinched his ear, making him squirm and chuckle. "However, after these last few days, we might just be even."

"I'm not so sure."

Lana leaned forward to brush the side of Caius' neck—on the premise that there were clippings to get rid of, although his skin was clear. Her smile faded as she thought to the future, when they would inevitably have to return to Odessen.

Life would go on.

Life, and its sempiternal fragility.

She found that—in spite of her pragmatic leanings—she almost wished they could stay on their island once Baras was dealt with. Wished they could disconnect the holoterminal and seal the front door and hide themselves away, where it would be just the two of them, and the burdens of command would simply slide away, like the remnants of a potent dream. Wished they could be safe, and alone, and married.

But that was little more than a fanciful and uncharacteristic muse. They could not stay on the island forever, because the galaxy needed Caius. Lana presumed that it would _always_ need him, up until the very day that he died, and long after he was gone.

Caius was silent for a few seconds, surprised, perhaps, by her sudden change in countenance. He reached back to press his hand over hers, where it still rested against the curve of his neck. Their eyes met through the mirror. As it always did (sometimes, against her better judgment), Caius' warmth brought her a measure of comfort. He didn't need to say anything; he was simply _there_. And that was enough. Lana allowed a half-smile and returned to her work as his hand slid back down to his side.

Ah, yes, the galaxy needed him, Lana thought. And so did she.

It had been another full day since her return to the waking world. Her recovery—while quite astounding in the first place, due to her strength in the Force—had been further aided by the efforts of Senya and Caius, who lent portions of their strength to her cells. This was at the unheeded balking of Lana herself, of course. Caius had sacrificed enough of his strength to keep her alive when she had first been injured.

But Caius, being _Caius_ , had adamantly ignored her complaints, and Senya refused to take a side in the matter.

And so they went through with it. Caius looked a bit… _grey_ …afterward. His face appeared more lined than usual, his eyes slightly less bright. But whenever he caught Lana watching him with that pinched expression of hers (it always surfaced when she worried over him), he would simply smile and continue with whatever he was working on, as a testament to his stubborn lack of regret for expending more of his energy on her full recovery.

Lana returned to the present with a bemused roll of her eyes. He was—when it came to her well-being—completely and utterly impossible.

Not that she didn't secretly love that side of him. Emphasis on _secretly_ —she would never hear the end of it if he found out.

She finished her work after a series of appraisals and adjustments, knowing full well that if she missed anything, it would get under her skin later (order and excellence were things she held in high esteem, after all. She refused to call it OCD). Lana brushed the last few clippings away from Caius' neck and gently patted his shoulders.

"There we are," she said, tipping her head down to look at him. "All better."

He smiled. "Thank you."

"Mm-hmm." Lana stepped around his chair and placed the scissors on the counter as Caius stood, stretching.

"I'll clean up," he offered, his voice pulled by the last vestiges of a yawn. "Did you speak with Senya last night? I think she was looking for you."

Lana handed him a broom with a shake of her head. "I didn't...I'll find her. I'm sure she and Arcann are at the house—probably cooking again, or something." As Caius took the broom, his right sleeve fell back, and she saw that his arm was tightly wrapped in clean, white gauze.

"Ah, I hope not. Our freezer is going to burst if we try to stuff anything else in there."

"We can bring some back to Odessen. Koth will eat it," she said, stepping closer to pluck a stray clipping from the front of his robe. She pursed her lips; Caius stilled, and she reached out to pull lightly at the arm of his cloak. "You're injured," she said. Lana had noticed the bandages before, but she had yet to ask him about it.

Caius glanced to the side, as though the plain bathroom wall held something interesting. "Oh, that? It's nothing. Just a little electrical burn."

"Let me see."

"Lana, it's fine—really."

Her golden eyes sharpened as she looked up at him. "Caius."

His jaw tightened. "Alright." Reluctantly, he set the broom aside and rolled up his sleeve, then unlooped several sections of the gauze. The skin beneath was a brash, angry red, laced here and there with branched, spindling patterns of violet.

Lana's eyes widened. She reached out to touch the skin, then thought better of it. "Caius…."

"It's gotten slightly better since we've been treating it, believe it or not." He smiled sadly before carefully wrapping his forearm again.

That pinched expression returned, pulling her brow inward and her lips down into a crowded line. "Caius, you should let me heal that. Or Senya, at least. Such a burn wound is…."

He was already shaking his head. "No."

"Why not?"

"I…." Caius shifted uneasily beneath the room's sterile lighting, his dark eyes flitting away. "I want to let it heal on its own. Naturally, without a Force user's intervention."

"Yes," Lana folded her hands behind her back as she peered up at him, "but _why_?"

"Because," he finally said as he met her gaze, "I think it will serve as a good reminder."

"A reminder."

"Yes."

"Reminder of what?" Her eyes narrowed. _Is he still punishing himself for what happened?_ "Caius, if—"

Just then, there came the telltale _crackle_ of Lana's comm link as Senya spoke in her ear. " _Lana,_ " the older woman said, " _do you have a moment? I could use your help at the house_."

 _Impeccable timing_. Truth be told, Lana could sense that it wasn't anything terribly important—they were in close enough proximity to one another that she would be able to detect a change through the Force—but she suspected Caius was still sorting through his thoughts. Perhaps it would be best to finish this conversation later.

Lana pressed a finger to her earpiece. "I'm on my way."

" _Thank you_."

Caius reached for the broom once more. "Senya?" he asked.

"Yes." She hesitated for a moment as she observed his tired form; when he turned to the side, the overhead lights gave him a silver, haloed outline. Lana broke the spell when she rested a hand upon his upper arm, and he paused. "Are you alright?" she asked.

His lips pulled into a tired smile. "I am. When you get back, we can talk about it. I promise."

"Very well," Lana said. "I'll hold you to that." She let her hand fall away with a reluctant breath.

Caius caught it—the soft echo of her sigh, and then her hand, before it returned to her side. He squeezed her fingers. "Ah...how about dinner tonight, just the two of us?"

(Lana loved that tentative side of him, the hesitant, quiet hope that all but filled the warm brown of his eyes. It was a countenance he saved for little questions like this).

She raised an eyebrow. "Candles and all?"

"Candles and all."

Lana squeezed back, her fingers small and delicate over his. "I would love that."

"Me, too." He tipped his chin up. "I'll, uh, reserve us a table."

"I hope the venue isn't the Blaster's Path." She smirked.

"Pfft. The Blaster's Path doesn't have _candles_ ," Caius said with an exaggerated snort. "I heard there's a real upscale establishment down by the docks, though. They might have some."

Lana chortled as she began backing out of the room. "Do you mean that vendor who dumpster dives for all of his merchandise?"

"What's wrong with dumpster diving?"

The bedroom door hissed open as she prepared to step through. "My dear," she called, " _Koth_ dumpster dives. That should be reason enough not to do it."

Caius laughed. "Oh, I suppose you're right. Blaster's Path it is, then."

"I'll stand you up."

"Ouch."

* * *

Lana found Senya in the den area of the house, standing before a small assortment of decorative items.

 _Voss_ , Lana thought as her eyes flicked over the warm golds and deep scarlets that, in various proportions, made up a majority of the decor. She came up beside the older woman and folded her hands behind her back.

Senya nodded a greeting before seating her hands on her hips. "Gifts from Voss," she said, giving voice to Lana's suspicion. "They insisted on giving us something for our help in rebuilding Voss-Ka's bridge. I was going to bring them back to Odessen, but, well…." she glanced meaningully around the scantily-decorated room. "I figured you two could really use some—eh— _something_."

"Mmm," Lana released an amused breath and leaned over to run her finger along the rim of a gold-trimmed floor vase. "That was thoughtful of you, Senya. Thank you."

"Of course." The former Knight sniffed; arched her back as she plucked a wall sconce from the coffee table; brought the vibrant blue of her eyes to a close as she blinked once, thoughtfully. "I started by putting a few pictures up—Theron gave me access—but I wanted your opinion before I set these out." She hefted the golden sconce and kept it at arm's length, assessing the item's size and shape in accordance with their available wall space.

Lana squinted at a collage of projected images in front of her. Where before there had been only empty frames, there was now an assortment of captured memories, each projected by a series of tiny emitters that lined the inside edge of each frame. The subjects varied: a group photo of the _Gravestone_ crew (Lana had begrudgingly joined in on the photograph—and only after Koth had all but literally hauled her into the camera's shot); a photo of Lana and Caius on Tatooine, the planet's iconic twin-sunset just dipping below a crest of shimmering sand in the background; an uncharacteristically shocked Theron as Tully yanked playfully at his ever-perfect hair, while Caius laughed in the foreground; another group photo (this one was clearly, _clearly_ taken by someone who had partaken in entirely too much alcohol, as the shot was not only crooked but dismally unfocused at the edges, with a dark smudge at the bottom that likely belonged to the photographer's finger)—it depicted the group at the recent celebration in Odessen's bar. Caius and Lana stood in the middle, his arm wrapped loosely around her waist, while Theron, Koth, Senya, and even Arcann crowded around them, drinks in hand. Koth wasn't even facing the camera; Theron had just raised his glass with much more vigor than was necessary, slinging brandy everywhere; Arcann wore an expression that could only be described as _begrudgingly amused_ ; and Senya looked on, her smile warm and happy, as she regarded her comrades with equal measures of affection and vigilance. Behind them, the slightly-blurred forms of Vette, Aric, Tora, Len, and several others could be seen as they danced wildly beneath pulsing waves of multicolored lights.

Lana smiled at the memory—still fresh, and yet it seemed like quite some time ago. In spite of its poor quality, she rather liked the photo. It was a genuine depiction of their inner circle.

"What do you think about this?" Senya pulled her from her thoughts as she unrolled a large area rug at their feet. It was, in true Voss fashion, intricately decorated with a mix of geometric designs and looping, native symbols.

There was a single spot at the far edge, small enough to the (normal) naked eye that it would easily be overlooked. But Lana went straight to it with a casual air and attempted to pluck the black away with feigned nonchalance, thinking that perhaps it was a stray thread.

It wasn't.

Lana sighed. _Well, I'd better make sure that edge goes under the couch. There'll be no end to my fretting over it, otherwise_. "I like it," she told Senya as the older woman eyed her knowingly. "Aside from that spot, the patterns and colors are lovely. Let's stretch it out beneath the coffee table and see how it looks."

"Alright." Senya took hold of the end with that pesky spot and stretched it out underneath the couch, where it wouldn't bother anyone (Lana). She raised an eyebrow at the Sith. "Better?"

Lana chuckled. "Yes, thank you." They placed the coffee table over the top and ensured that everything was square. Thus satisfied, they moved on to the wall sconces and other various decorations.

They worked for a while, splitting the amiable silence with comfortable stretches of small talk and logistical musings. It was strange—the normalcy of it. Strange to be arranging furniture in a home of her own, to be talking about open space and ambience and _do these colors mesh well, or should we move this over there?_ Strange to feel productive in a way that was completely different from planning missions and being out in the field and writing or reading reports. She wondered if she could ever do something like this permanently—live a life of relative normalcy (whatever _normalcy_ truly was, in times like these).

At some point, Lana huffed a sigh and stepped back to examine their work. "Much better," she said to Senya as they took in the warmer, more comfortable living space. _I should probably do something with the bedroom later,_ she added as a silent footnote to herself.

"I agree." Senya folded her arms together and leaned back on one foot. She peered over at Lana. "How have you been feeling?"

Lana tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Almost back to normal, I think," she answered. "Thanks to you and Caius."

"Mmm. You seem like something's troubling you."

She raised an eyebrow at Senya, surprised by how easily the older woman had sensed it. "It's nothing."

"Uh-huh."

Lana sighed (how many times had she done that in the last hour?) and ambled over to the kitchen, where she poured each of them a glass of water. She handed one to Senya and leaned against the stone counter. The liquid was cool and refreshing on her tongue; she savored the comforting chill as it coated her throat and traveled down to her stomach. "I was just thinking," she told Senya after several long moments, "about going back to Odessen. Back to real life, as it were."

Senya took a long drink of water and dried her lips. "I see. Not looking forward to it?"

"Well...I suppose I'm just wondering what's next. After our wedding and everything."

"Besides rebuilding the galaxy alongside Caius, you mean."

"Yes. Besides that." She stared stoically into her cup, watching as a tiny, distorted image of her face swirled with the remnants of her water. "I think that, after everything that's happened since we came here, I'm just realizing...there has to be an end to it, right? An end to the constant struggle." _The vague, ever-wavering line between life and death_. _One day, we'll cross it_. _But until then…._

Senya placed her cup in the sink and pulled her hair loose, placing the hair tie around her wrist as she fixed back the loosened strands of her bun. The silver-brown of her hair glimmered as morning light streamed through the window and down upon her head. "Lana," she began as she re-wrapped the hair tie and leaned back against her hands with a satisfied grunt, "this is...rather unlike you. Different from your usual pragmatism, I mean. Which," she conceded, "isn't a bad thing. But it makes me wonder if there's something else going on." Senya's blue eyes—calm and smooth and crisp—leveled astutely on her.

Lana's many years under the scrutiny of the Empire's shrewd, calculating regime had ingrained in her a sense of unwavering resolve. It was, in truth, the only thing that kept her from squirming as she faced the sharp perception of Senya's gaze. "I'm not sure…."

"You've seen something."

"I'm sorry?"

Senya pursed her lips as she thought. "A dream, perhaps, or a vision? Yes, that could be it...when you were sleeping. What did you dream about?"

Ah. And here was the answer to the question. It came, for the first conscious time since Lana had returned to the waking world three days ago—suddenly and softly, swift and stifling, with that imprinted ache of remembrance that always accompanies the surprise of having forgotten something so important.

She knew, as she recalled the image upon the tail of Senya's prodding, that it wasn't just a dream. It was a vision. A promise of things to come.

A child swaddled in pink.

Lana swallowed heavily. "A child," she whispered, narrowly keeping herself from raising a hand to her mouth in shock. "I had a vision...about a child."

Senya glanced down at her feet, then back up again. She didn't seem to be the least bit surprised. Indeed, her eyes softened even further as she regarded her younger friend. "Are you…."

"No," Lana shook her head as she regained her composure. "No, I would be able to sense it, I think."

"You would, yes. I knew as soon as I was pregnant with the twins, and again with Vaylin." Her eyes clouded briefly at the mention of the name—joy crippled by loss and betrayal, and loss again. Senya blinked and leaned closer; she rested a hand upon Lana's shoulder. "Lana," she said gently, "this is...really something you should discuss with Caius. Your apprehension about the future—about what comes next—makes sense now."

"I know." She tugged absently at a thread on her sleeve. _No wonder I've been so..._ melancholy _...about going back. I don't know the timeframe, but...Caius and I? As parents? When he's on the Eternal Throne? And with our lives on the line so often. Shit._ "I want to be happy about it," she murmured, "and in many ways, I am, but...with everything...all of our battles, and the inevitability of the wars we'll face…."

Senya squeezed her shoulder. "Hey." Lana snapped from her reverie and breathed in the pungent air of reality. "You said it yourself just now: there has to be an end. An end to the constant struggle. The battles." Senya let her hand slide away, but she remained just as close, just as supportive. "Was there a clear setting in your vision?"

"No, nothing concrete."

"Alright. Well," she sighed lightly, rubbing a tight muscle in the back of her neck, "my advice is that you don't dwell too heavily on this. Right now, all you can do is have a discussion with Caius. Be honest; tell him what you saw, and what you've been thinking. I'm sure he'll take it well—he takes most things well, as you know—and from there, you two can work through things together."

Lana placed her cup on the counter and stretched her lips into a closed smile. "Thank you, Senya," she said. Her golden eyes met Senya's blue. "I'm glad you decided to stay with us, through everything. You are a valuable ally—and an even more valuable friend."

Senya inclined her head in a graceful nod. "Of course. I'm glad I stayed, as well." She grabbed Lana's cup and moved to the sink, where she calmly began to wash the few dishes that dwelled there. "I've learned a lot from you guys, you know," she told her. "I'll never get a second chance with two of my children, but...well, I can do right by Arcann, as well as by you and Caius, and the rest of our circle." The older woman's head turned to the side as she flashed Lana a mischievous grin. "And perhaps one more, as well. I've always wanted to be a grandmother. Well—minus the _being old_ part."

Lana chortled. "You aren't old."

"Uh-huh. My bones say otherwise. You should hear my knees pop when I get out of bed in the morning."

"I see. Shall I get you a cane for your next birthday, then?"

"If you want to be the one to use it, maybe."

"Ha. Never mind."

* * *

Lana exited the house with the intention of bringing up The Subject (as she had officially dubbed it)to Caius as soon as she got back to the _Fury_. As it turned out, however, he contacted the three of them just as she was stepping outside.

" _Jakarro and C2 have new information regarding Baras' whereabouts_ ," he said. " _Let's meet back at the_ Fury _and come up with a plan._ "

Lana caught up with Arcann, who had, apparently, taken a liking to Tully. He was in the pen with her, brushing out her fur, when Caius called. Senya joined the two of them as they made their way down the trail and into the clearing where the ship was waiting.

They found Caius in the main area; before him, a silver-blue image of Jakarro and C2 was projected against the dark alloy of the _Fury_ 's interior.

"Are we being paid for this?" C2 asked the commander. "I think we should be paid."

Caius leaned back on one foot with a skeptical turn of his head. His robes—black, as usual, with flexible armored plating on his shoulders, wrists, and chest—rippled navy in the light of the holoterminal. "C2," he chided, "You should consider this a favor between friends. Besides, aren't you two practically swimming in credits right now?"

Jakarro released a guttural growl.

"No, no, he's right," C2 sighed. "And we have that job coming up next week. Fine." The droid's luminant eyes readjusted as they focused in on Caius and his companions. "A favor it is. Because we're friends. But I expect an invitation to your wedding!"

The wookie roared in agreement.

"Yes, and booze! Well, booze for Jakarro, that is. Now, where were we?"

"You were going to send the coordinates for each of the three hangars."

"Ah, yes. Give us a moment."

Caius turned to Lana, Senya, and Arcann, who were watching the exchange with keen interest. "So," he said, "I know it's short notice, but Jakarro and C2 think we should strike today."

Arcann folded his arms over his chest; his mechanical shoulder whirred softly as it rotated. "The sooner the better, in my opinion. We can't let Baras regain his strength."

"Why today?" Lana asked. She clasped her hands behind her back.

"There's been a recent change in the guard rotation, apparently. New Nova Blade recruits have been interspersed throughout the seasoned ranks. If we strike now, we'll have a better chance of getting in without much resistance."

Senya traced a finger along her chin as she considered. "Sounds likely. We're hitting all three at once, right? We still don't know which one Baras is at?"

"Right. Jakarro and C2 have been monitoring over the last few days. It's unlikely that Baras has left the planet."

Arcann scuffed his boot against the deck. "Very well. I say we each take a base, while one person stays behind to monitor our positions."

There was a brief pause, during which every gaze in the room settled on Lana. She lifted her chin. "I would prefer not to stay behind."

"Lana, you're still recovering," Caius said.

She snorted at that. "Hardly. You look worse off than I do, at this point," Lana said, gesturing briefly to his wounded arm. Caius pressed his lips into a thin, disapproving line, one that bespoke his worry as well as his perception.

"Caius is right," Senya matter-of-factly interjected. "You'll probably do a better job than him, anyway. He's not used to being behind the scenes."

From somewhere below them, the clopping of 2V's metallic feet echoed through the floors as the droid tidied some unused corner, nattering on about dust motes and industrial-strength cleaners and the proper use of airlock doors.

Lana fixed a rebellious strand of hair behind her ear; stared down at the toe of her boot for a moment, where a smudge had appeared near the edge; resisted the urge to bend down and wipe said smudge away. She looked back to Caius instead. "Alright," she conceded. "I'll stay."

He dipped his head. "Thank you."

* * *

After C2 transmitted the remaining data and the group hashed out the details of their plan, Lana and Caius made their way toward the ship's exit. It was decided that the trio would leave right away; because each hangar was in close proximity to Raider's Cove, they would fly the newly-repaired _Fury_ over and keep it docked at the back of the city, then disperse to their respective target locations from there.

Lana paused before the airlock door. Caius, ever-steady, rested a hand upon her arm. "If—for any reason—something goes south, just call. Not that you can't take care of yourself, or anything. But...well...you know what I mean."

"I know." She offered him a smile that waned into an expression of subtle amusement. "Make sure you're back in time for dinner, hmm?"

"You have my word." His hand trailed down her arm and paused briefly over her hand, where he squeezed her fingers.

Lana squeezed back. Her eyes roamed over the curve of his lips; lingered upon the shallow rift where his scar divided them. She stood on her tiptoes and leaned closer.

It was then that Arcann appeared from around the corner, his ill-timed presence announced only by an exaggerated yawn. Lana sighed and, to Caius' surprise, she adjusted her trajectory and planted a soft kiss upon his scarred cheek, instead. "I'll see you soon," she said, earnestly, before she lightly drew her hand down his jaw and stepped away.

She heard him growl something to Arcann about "privacy" and "literally two minutes" as Senya's musical laugh lilted from the main room, and the airlock door sealed shut.

* * *

Lana rested her hands upon the edge of the holoterminal as she surveyed a top-down projection of the Raider's Cove area, where each hangar was signified by an overlay of red. The _Fury_ had just docked.

She thought briefly of The Subject as she carefully watched each ally's locator, tracing their paths through the streets of the ragged pirate town. Lana wondered how Caius might respond to the notion of having a child. They had never really discussed it, after all, apart from the occasional ephemeral comment about what "normal life" might look like, had they been born as simple citizens on some Imperial world.

Still, she couldn't imagine him taking it poorly. Caius rarely took _anything_ poorly—the sum of his responses to an operation gone wrong or an unfortunate revelation amounted to a grating _Well, shit_ , after which he would plug on in search of a solution. That prudence and levelheadedness, Lana thought, would make him an excellent father.

Assuming her vision came true.

Assuming Caius _wanted_ to have a child.

Assuming she would make even a semblance of a decent mother (Lana wasn't sure).

" _Hello? Lana, are you there?_ " Arcann's voice, even more gravelly than usual when filtered through the comm system, pulled her from her thoughts.

Lana returned her attention to the progress of her teammates. "Yes, sorry. I'm here."

There came a low, static sound that might have been a dismissive grunt. " _Good._ " He paused for a moment; Lana spied his locator as he wound his way through the shambled streets. " _We're on a private channel right now,_ " Arcann continued after he rounded a corner. " _I wanted to ask you a question_."

"Ask away." She pressed her lips together, her curiosity piqued, as she roamed over the map. The other two were making good progress; they would likely make it to their targets in under a half hour.

Arcann hesitated before going on. " _Do you think_ ," he asked, " _that there's really such a thing as redemption_?"

Lana considered for a moment. "That seems like a question for Caius."

" _No. I know what the Commander would say_." Arcann's locator paused at the corner of an alley as, Lana supposed, he waited for a suspicious group to pass by. " _I want to hear what_ you _think._ "

"Why me?"

" _Because I know you'll be honest with me. And_ ," he added, " _because I know you've wondered the same thing. I don't believe it's ever been much of a question for Caius. He's just that way._ "

Lana folded her hands behind her back, amused. "You're right," she said, the words falling gently from her lips. "He is." There was a long pause as Arcann started moving again, and as Lana mulled over her response. The former Emperor was right—she had, in fact, pondered over the answer to that question. Many times. In the past, her reply might have been a "no," founded primarily upon her observations and experiences as a Sith Lord. Indeed, there had been numerous times when she had thought it necessary to end a person's life based upon a conjunction of past deeds and the likelihood that she would be betrayed, should she keep them alive.

It had been safer to kill. Safer to end the possibility of redemption.

Safer, and more practical.

But now, well...nothing was so simple, now.

Lana sighed as she looked over the holoprojection, her golden eyes rendered silver by the map's reflection. "I do believe there is such a thing as redemption, yes." There. She'd said it. How foreign were those words, merciful and true and maybe a little heavy. But Lana found that she rather liked the weight of them on her tongue.

" _To what degree_?" Arcann asked.

"Well, I suppose it depends."

" _On what_?"

Lana rested her palms on the holoterminal's edge. "Arcann," she said pointedly, partly because she wasn't sure what the exact parameters were yet, and partly because she knew he was looking for a very specific answer.

She heard his inhale over the comm. " _You must hate me_ ," he said, " _after everything I've done. You, more than anyone else_."

Lana gazed down at her fingers. In a way, he was right: Arcann was responsible for Caius' entrapment in carbonite. He was responsible for the deaths of millions, responsible for the enslavement of the Empire and the Republic, responsible for the wide, knotted scar that sat between Caius' shoulders. For a time, she _had_ hated him. Hated what he did to the man she loved. For what he did to the Empire she used to love.

" _That's why I need to know if you believe it_ ," Arcann said, quietly. " _If you believe a man like me—a monster—can be redeemed._ "

She closed her eyes, shutting the glow out, so that she could focus on the embers within. "You know," she murmured, "when he chose to spare you, I was furious. I didn't care that you were a possible asset. I didn't care that we needed all the help we could get to take down Vaylin. I didn't even care that we might lose Senya in the process of saving you—no. At the time, all I saw was that hole in Caius' chest. The scar you gave him. I saw it, and I wanted you dead." She paused; combed her fingers through her hair, as though the action would stem the dissonant tide of memories. "But you know what? I realized something that night, after we argued. I realized that somehow, and in some way, we're all searching for the same thing. For redemption. And we all have our different ways of seeking it out. Caius saves people, when he can. I prize knowledge and truth. Senya has us—our inner circle—whom she can mother and care for. Theron works tirelessly as a spy. Even Koth has...well...reckless abandon, I suppose." Lana paused for a moment. "You see," she said, "we all have something. Some form of searching. Of pursuing what is better—a better, more favorable future, perhaps, where we can be who we were meant to be."

" _That sounds rather optimistic_ ," Arcann grumbled.

Lana chuckled. "Yes, well, you can blame it on Caius' influence," she said, her eyes flicking to the other side of the map, where their teammates had paused. "Arcann," she finished, "he gave you a chance to seek redemption. And that's all you can do: _seek_ it. It's all any of us can do."

There was a long pause, laden thick with the contents of what she had just said. Lana thought she heard the whirring sound of Arcann's mechanical arm as he spoke again. " _I'll think on your words_ ," he told her. _"Thank you, Lana._ "

"Of course."

* * *

When all three team members were in position, Lana gave the go-ahead, and each began the process of infiltrating a hangar. Jakarro and C2's intel had been correct: the Nova Blades had only a few guards posted, several of whom were clearly inexperienced. Baras had been stripped of his only substantial allies; a handful of ragtag, rookie pirates would be no match for the prowess of any seasoned warrior.

Such was the disparaging lack of challenge that they made it into the main bay of each hangar in under thirty minutes. Unfortunately, however, each bay was empty.

Baras was gone.

Lana rolled her shoulders—still somewhat stiff after the slew of injuries she had so recently recovered from—and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Let's regroup at home," she told them. "We'll come up with our next steps once everyone's back."

Senya's voice hitched as she jogged out of her hangar. " _Got it_."

Lana watched their locators for a while, ensuring that everyone made it back to the outskirts of Pirate's Cove, before she stepped away from the holoterminal.

The doorbell chimed.

She froze, immediately thinking to the lightsaber that sat still and ready at her hip.

Again came the soft announcement of someone's arrival, echoing pleasantly from the walls of the home. Lana removed the lightsaber from her hip and approached the door. She sensed his presence before she saw his image on the security interface. It was an unmistakably _angry_ lifeforce, filled with malice and vengeance and the sharp, polluted tang of bitterness.

Baras' voice came over the comm as she watched him from inside. " _My dear_ ," he hissed, " _I do hope this isn't a bad time_."

She tapped her comm link twice. "It is, actually." Lana gripped her saber tightly, trying to sense the extent of his injuries through the door. "I'm busy right now, you see."

The former Darth's pungent yellow eyes narrowed into vicious, menacing slits as he peered up at the camera. " _So it seems. I'm afraid I owe you an apology._ " Baras paced back and forth as he spoke; Lana saw that he had a slight limp on the left side. " _I was supposed to kill you the other day. It was meant to be quick; painless. But now…_." He ignited his own lightsaber; she heard the scrape of its energy as purple light bathed the outside of the door. " _Now, I'll have to do it slowly._ "

"You disappoint me, Baras," Lana chided. "I had long heard of your silver tongue, back when I fought for the Empire. But I see now that you're nothing more than a deluded old fool. You've been driven mad by your desire for vengeance."

" _How dare you mock me, child! You, who abandoned your home for the likes of a traitor and a golden throne!_ "

Lana closed her eyes for a moment as she centered herself. "Caius is far more loyal to the Empire than you ever were. Even now, he fights for them. For what they can be."

Baras twirled his saber, its radiant violet thrashing rifts through the stillness of the afternoon air. " _He's poisoned you, I see._ _You know, my plan was to kill you in order to destroy him. But I think I'll kill you because you deserve to die, instead. His misery will just be an added benefit_."

A muted _tap_ sounded over Lana's comm. "You can try," she growled, and then she ignited her lightsaber and burst into the open air. Baras rose to meet her, his brief moment of surprise snuffed out in favor of rage, and their lightsabers clashed—red against violet.

She pressed against his left side; he took a step backward, and then another, before leaping away. Lana rushed him immediately. She brought her saber down hard over her head, and Baras parried with startling speed. Again and again, she struck. To the right. An upward swing as she aimed for his legs. A low-hanging tree branch to her left fell to the ground as she targeted his left side again. The forest—silent before now—was ignited by the swings and parries of the duelists. Red and violet; violet and red; they painted the air, slicing open the ground and through the trees around them. It was a world of deadly, sound-inducing color. So beautiful. So cruel.

So volatile and graceful was their fight that, at intervals, they broke apart before charging in again. At one such parting, Baras prepared to charge. Sweat poured down his bald, pale head, his skin colored by the gleam of his lightsaber. Lana saw his impending advance and loosed a channel of lightning in Baras' direction. He blocked—narrowly—and, with his other hand, Baras sent his own stream of chaotic sky-energy toward her.

The bolts of Force lightning collided between them with a resounding _crack_ , tearing the air around them asunder. Wind swirled through Lana's hair; splinters of wood flew in every direction. She leaned forward, baring her teeth, and her current of lightning brightened further. Baras did the same; he ducked his head as he bent into his attack, struggling to overthrow her strike.

It was during this suspension that, suddenly, Lana pictured The Subject. It wasn't anything overtly conscious. No deliberate thoughts about the need to survive for the sake of the future; nothing so obvious as a "what if" or a singular doubt that she would lose this fight. It was a simple, fleeting image of a child in Caius' arms, there for less than a second before it disappeared to the far reaches of her mind.

But it was enough.

Lana took a breath. She drew her other arm up and stepped forward, closer to the storm of energy at the epicenter of their battle, and she poured herself into a reinforced attack. Like a ripple across the surface of a pond, a golden bolt of lightning unfurled from her fingertips and sped toward Baras. It crashed into his dark, angry Force energy, and the collision erupted like a well-placed explosive.

Baras was hurled through the air, his body smashing through several young trees, before he crashed into the grass some distance away. Lana fell to one knee and swallowed heavily; a droplet of sweat dripped from her chin. She heard his cough—it was shallow and weak. Heard him gurgle something that may have resembled a threat.

And then she heard the sound of a third lightsaber, stark and contained, as it ignited through the trees. Lana glanced up. There, above Baras, stood Caius. His scarlet blade hovered over his former master's throat.

* * *

Baras, no longer having the strength to lift his head, stared up at his former apprentice with a look of uncanny shock. "H-how…."

Caius removed his hood and looked down on Baras with an expression of icy calm. "It must feel strange," he said, "to walk into a trap. You're so used to being on the other side, aren't you?" Baras' yellow eyes fluttered weakly as Caius continued. "When you sabotaged the _Fury_ , you planted bugs in our comm systems. Then, you fed C2 and Jakarro intel through a few well-paid pirates. You wagered that we would attack all three hangars at once—requiring no more than one person to stay behind—so that you could set a trap for us when we returned." Baras wheezed with every inhale. Caius adjusted his grip on his blade, holding it steady, just inches above the old Sith's mottled throat.

Blood dripped from Baras' nose. "I got...an alarm. All three."

"Yes. I sent Jakarro and C2 in my stead, while I stayed here—far enough from home that you wouldn't sense me so easily." He kicked Baras' lightsaber away, although he doubted that it was necessary. His former master appeared to be paralyzed. "I was going to intervene, but there was no need. You old fool," he growled. "Did you really think you could defeat Lana alone? Or all three of us, when we returned?"

"I...didn't care. There is nothing left. Nothing...but vengeance."

Caius turned his head to the side, just slightly, as Lana came up beside him. He looked back to Baras and drew his lips into a troubled frown. "Even now, I pity you." The older man's eyes widened a fraction of an inch. "You had such keen intellect. Such a brilliant mind, full of wit and vigor. But you wasted it on the things of this world. Power and corruption. Deceit and lies...and vengeance."

Baras choked as he inhaled, his lungs stretching open to receive air, but finding blood instead. He sputtered; little droplets of scarlet life—his was always scarlet, from the day he joined the Sith Academy—dripped from his chin. "I…" he choked, "I…." He devolved into more coughing, no longer able to speak through the flood of red in his lungs.

"Goodbye, Baras." Caius kept his eyes open as he brought his lightsaber down upon the old man, the great orchestrator, who had drawn so many sour notes upon the once winter-white of Caius' life pages.

Later, he would wonder what Baras might have said in those last moments, had his lungs been filled with air instead of blood.

* * *

Lana walked into their bedroom some hours later to find that the center fire pit was glowing warmly. Caius (with Senya's help, she presumed) had placed a Voss rug and a low table on the other side of the slow-burning flames. And there, at the center of the arrangement, was a single, flickering candle atop a gold-trimmed base.

Caius bowed neatly as she entered. He was clad in a black, tailored tunic with silver accents at the cuffs and seams. Lana smiled as Senya ushered her inside, and the door slid closed behind her. She, too, was wearing dress attire (she refused to wear a traditional, full dress, aside from the one she had been eyeing on the holonet for the wedding). Her tunic was a soft emerald with charcoal lapels and silver trim to match Caius'; a silk cape was attached to one shoulder.

"You look lovely," Caius said. A careful smile softened his features as she stepped closer.

Lana fingered the edge of his collar, running her thumb along the silver trim. "Thank you," she said, breathing in his clean, piney scent. "You don't look so shabby, yourself."

His chest rumbled as he hummed in amusement. Caius brushed the back of his fingers along her jaw, reveling in the softness of her skin, before he inclined his head toward the table beside them. "I managed to find us a candle," he said, smirking. "It's a little sad, but I figured it was better than nothing."

Lana peered down at the candle in question; it was already halfway melted, its wax drooping dejectedly toward the contrasting gold of the stand it rested upon. "I'm surprised you managed to find one at all." She seated herself on a cushion before the table, and Caius followed suit.

"Yes, well, it turns out that vendor who dumpster dives actually _does_ have some good finds, now and then."

"You're joking."

"Not at all."

Lana chuckled as she rearranged her cape, fanning it out on the floor behind her so that she wouldn't be sitting on it. Before her was a plate of food containing items from Senya's flurry of cooking, during which so many entrees were prepared that they would surely be supplied for months.

"Senya tells me this is the best cut of tonitran meat," he said, gesturing to the seared portion of meat on her plate, which appeared to be well-seasoned and teeming with flavorful juices. Beside it was a small assortment of native vegetables; she had tried most of them before (aside from the spotted one near the edge. She eyed it warily). Glasses of ice water sat sweating beside their plates.

Together, they tucked into their meals. The meat was, indeed, just as delicious as it looked, and Lana found that she rather liked the earthy flavor of the bizarre-looking vegetable. Caius ate with a sense of carefully-contained enthusiasm—this came as no surprise to Lana, for any person would be hard pressed to present Caius with a slab of meat he _didn't_ like.

After several minutes of the treasured symphony that always accompanies a good meal (that is, relative silence, apart from the _clink_ of utensils and the sipping of drinks and the occasional _ah_ or _uh-huh_ of an appreciated flavor), Lana once again noticed the bandage on Caius' right arm.

She nodded to the wounded appendage. "How's the pain?" she asked.

Caius swallowed a bite of tonitran steak and wiped his mouth with a nearby napkin. "It's not bad," he answered, rotating the arm. "The salve 2V gave me is an analgesic."

Lana nodded thoughtfully as she sipped her ice water. She swirled the liquid, watching as the trapezoidal ice cubes collided with the transparent barrier of the glass. Her golden eyes flicked back to Caius. "Why won't you let me heal it?" she asked.

His dark gaze drifted to his own water glass, where little droplets sped toward the table's surface. "Ah, it's foolish of me," he admitted with a frown. "I was just thinking about what happened on that cliff. The injuries you sustained...but really, it was about everything before that, you know. When we spoke about my time in carbonite. I wanted to remember those years, and all of the times you've waited for me to come back—that they were real for you. I guess this—" He rotated his arm again, although the black of his sleeve hid it from view, "was a way for me to remember the pain you've suffered." Caius ran a hand through his short hair, his brow scrunching briefly as he seemed to recall that he had cut it, and thus had very little to comb his fingers through. "I don't want to forget," he said softly.

Lana scooted the remains of her vegetables around her plate. She picked at a sliver of something resembling asparagus as she considered his train of thought. "Caius," she began, "I see where you're coming from, but...please don't punish yourself for my sake. And you won't forget."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know you," she said simply as she finished off that vegetable. It was quiet for a moment as she swallowed. Lana put her fork down and looked back to him, taking in the perpendicular scars that ran across his visage. "You've been forced to carry too many scars as it is." Her thoughts drifted to that pale, knotted mark between his shoulder blades, and her eyes drifted downward.

Maybe she carried some of them, too.

Caius sighed. He shifted uneasily atop his cushion, trying and failing to relieve the tension in one of the muscles of his legs. As he leaned forward, his ring hovered over the table, its tri-colored composition displaying fragments of the fire's light. Lana reached for her own ring; the metals were warm against her palm. Caius caught the movement as he righted himself. He gave her a strange look, the deep hues of his eyes colored with a myriad of thoughts, before he spoke. "Let's get married when we return to Odessen," he said, suddenly.

Lana coughed and reached for her glass, letting her ring fall back to her chest. "When we get back? You mean, tomorrow?" she choked in between gulps of water.

"Um, well," he hesitated, his expression torn between amusement and worry at the sight of her reaction. "Not _tomorrow_ , exactly. It will take us a good two days to get there. And I'm sure we'll be tired. The day after we arrive, perhaps?"

It took several moments for the surprise to wash down her throat. Lana wiped delicately at her lips. "Caius, do you know anything about planning a wedding? Emphasis on 'planning'? As in, there are things to set in motion _before_ the event happens?"

"Oh, right, we need to order flowers and stuff." He tipped his head back and frowned. "How about we skip the flowers, then? You don't really like flowers, anyway."

"Caius."

"Hmm?"

He was looking at her with that boyish expression of his, so vibrant and somehow innocent, and she loved him all the more for it. Still, at least _some_ amount of logic and pragmatism had to be applied to the notion. "Is there a reason why you want to rush the wedding?"

Caius leaned a bit closer. His vibrancy faded into something more slow and careful, like the flickering of the fire behind them, earnest and quietly bright. "Well, when you think about it," he said, "it really isn't rushing. We've been together all these years. I guess...I just want to be with you, by your side, forever. Officially, I mean."

A delicate pink colored the highest part of her cheekbones. "I see," she said, knotting her fingers together. She met his eyes. "I feel the same."

"And it will be nice to call you 'wife.'"

"Ah. The moment is gone."

"What? I mean that in a loving way."

Lana snorted lightly, turning her head away as she smoothed her hair (and attempted to brush away the glow of her cheeks). She looked back at Caius to find him smiling softly. She dipped her head. "Very well. How about a week? I think we can throw it together by then. The catering will be awful, though…."

"Nonsense. We'll just bring all of Senya's leftovers," Caius drawled.

Lana sighed. "You're impossible."

"Maybe."

She smiled. "You're right, though. Truly. I think we've waited long enough, haven't we?"

"Yes." He blinked once, slowly, as he leaned back and into a slow stretch. "Far too long."

* * *

By the time they had cleared away the dishes and wiped up the remains of the sad, thoroughly-depleted candle, Lana was more than ready to get out of her robes and crawl into bed. Caius had already done so; he was curled up atop the covers as she stepped out of the bathroom in her night tunic.

And then, she remembered The Subject. It was, as usual, an ill-timed arrival of thought. It had been a long day; Lana was rather worn out after her battle, and Caius looked much the same. But she knew that it would keep her up if she didn't talk to him about it (and, subsequently, it would keep _him_ up, for he would be able to sense her unease). And so she planted herself at the edge of the bed. Her back was to Caius; he reached for her hand as she tapped an interface on the wall, and the center fire dissipated. The room fell into the quiet of night's darkness.

Caius ran his thumb along the top of her fingers. "Something on your mind?" he asked.

"Yes. I've been meaning to speak to you about it since this morning."

"Ah." He seemed to sense the gravity of the subject, and so he brought himself into a sitting position at her side. "I'm listening."

Lana leaned her head into his shoulder. She felt the warmth of his breath as he pressed a brief kiss to the top of her head. "I...had a dream, when I was recovering." She picked at a stray thread on his pant leg.

Caius rotated slightly so that he could see her face properly. "Oh? A good one, I hope?"

"It—well, yes, I think."

"You think."

She nodded distractedly as she continued to pull at the thread in his pants. "Um…." Lana found that she had trouble finding the right words—it shouldn't have been difficult, really, but suddenly she was thinking about their recent conversation regarding the wedding, and everything seemed rather rushed. Maybe she should've waited to bring up The Subject.

There was a long pause. A whispering rush of air as Caius inhaled. Another whisper as he released his breath, and with it, a tentative question: "Did you see her?" he asked, so quietly that she might have missed it, were she not pressed so near to his tired form. "The child?"

Lana pulled away. She pressed her hands against his chest and stared into his night-eyes, so dark without the fire to light them. "How did you…?"

"I saw her, too," he said, one hand reaching up to lightly clasp her wrist. "It was another shared dream, I think." He hesitated, and then: "I was waiting to bring it up. I wasn't sure if you remembered…."

"Yes, it was only just this morning, when I was talking with Senya." They remained there, frozen, her hands splayed against his chest, his good arm reaching to steady her. Lana swallowed. "Are you...I mean, if it was truly more than a dream…."

Caius ducked his head. "I worry," he answered, "with the Throne, and our responsibilities. But at the same time...I think that maybe we could find a way."

Lana placed one palm over the knotted scar at the center of his chest. Beneath the marred tissue, she could feel the slow, steady _lub-dub_ of his heartbeat: constant. Strong. Dependable. She leaned into his chest, wrapping her arms around his middle, and Caius held her tightly. "You would make an excellent father," she whispered. The soft cadence of her breath whisked across his skin; he reached up to stroke her hair.

"You think so?"

"I do."

"Mmm." His hand drifted down to smooth a wrinkle in the shoulder of her tunic. "I always thought you would make a good mother."

Lana trailed a finger along his forearm. "Is that so?"

"Yes," Caius said. "You're wise and discerning. Stern and kind. Our kids won't get away with anything, that's for sure. Well...except for when dad's around." He pressed his lips into a faint, mischievous grin.

"Uh-huh. You'll spoil them rotten." Lana pulled back for a moment and settled her golden, discerning gaze upon his face.

She thought then, briefly, about the sacred _nearness_ of that moment. She thought of how often they had brushed so closely with the cold sting of death. Even in the last week or so (this _had_ been a vacation, right?), they had sustained many grave injuries, had faced down an old threat, and had put him to rest. Perhaps it was the ever-encompassing danger that made these moments—these small, quiet, unforgettable things—so precious. Conversations and jokes and nearness. Changes in expression. Plays of light upon the deep warmth of Caius' eyes.

Lana reached for his bandaged arm. With great care, she quietly pulled away his dressing, her eyes roaming over the angry, lightning-imprinted tissues. Then she looked to him, a silent query plain in the tilt of her head.

Caius nodded his ascent. Light—golden and warm—surrounded Lana's fingertips as she rested them upon his arm. The warmth soaked into his skin; it dispelled the darkness of his wound, the varying discoloration slowly receding like the wax of a depleted candle, and its likeness dissipated into the air in finely-curled golden streams.

Her touch did not halt there, although the wound was quickly healed. She brought her hand up to rest upon his cheek as the last of the glow gently fizzled away. Caius bowed his head, descending, so that he could press a kiss to the curve of her neck. His breath was warm and tentative on her skin—a question. She answered by lacing her fingers with his: two parts of the same whole, now healed. His smile was written in the softness of his second kiss, placed delicately upon her jaw, and in the third, which finally met her trembling lips.

They reached for each other—for a deeper closeness. For the truth they sought, for the hope they defended. For the scars they bore.

It was inevitable: the impending arrival of life's dailiness, of danger and uncertainty and maybe some measure of tragedy, for that is what war is.

Life would go on.

Life, and its sempiternal fragility.

But there, in the night, in those small moments, when Caius' lips met hers and she wrapped her arms around him and they were vulnerable and real and _known_ , the uncertainty of the future didn't matter quite so much. The certainty of the present did: the assurance that Caius was there, and that he would _always_ be there, even when he wasn't. That was enough for Lana. That was eternity, for her.

* * *

 **So much fluff. I have to say that I'm not super pleased with this chapter...I hope all of the dialogue isn't too boring.**

 **Anyway, thanks for reading! I think I have another one or two chapters planned for this, but we'll see how it pans out (because I have to put the wedding in there, you know. Right?) Let me know what you think? I appreciate you all!**


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